


a waiting game

by playitagain



Series: when your best friend is everything [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blood, Broken Bones, Coma, Established Relationship, Hospitals, M/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Scars, Torture, Vomit, brief descriptions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playitagain/pseuds/playitagain
Summary: Ron is sent undercover without Harry. What happens when he is compromised?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley
Series: when your best friend is everything [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120892
Comments: 30
Kudos: 63





	1. waiting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [livingincolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingincolors/gifts).



> This started out as a request on tumblr and turned into this.

The office is quiet, a pleasant buzz barely filtering through the cracked door. It’s not enough to distract but just enough that the silence doesn’t drive him crazy. The report in front of him is long and tedious, Hermione’s voice a constant in the back of his head telling him to get it done just like she did in school. It isn’t hard to convince himself to finish though. The sooner he finishes, the sooner he gets to go home to Ron. 

The whispers outside his door catch his attention though. The normally pleasant buzz has changed into a tense chatter, the whole air of the office changing. Harry furrows his brows in confusion, placing his quill down carefully as not to smudge any ink. The chair scratches against the wooden floor and it seems like a hush filters through the office just on the other side of the door. 

He’s reaching for the door handle, an inquiry on his lips, when the door swings open. He barely steps back before the wood slams closed again, familiar blue eyes looking at him for only a moment before he’s engulfed in the warm embrace that feels more like home than any four walls ever have. 

He immediately knows something is wrong. 

The air in the room crackles with longing, pain, sadness and Harry’s nearly suffocated by the realization that they’ve really separated them, taken their partnership -one built on years of fighting Voldemort together - away in only the drop of a hat. They’re not allowed to be partners in the office if they’re partners in real life and Harry hates that they ever found out. 

The fear settles in his heart when Ron’s nose presses into the unruly hair atop his head, arms tight like he’s holding Harry like a lifeline. This isn’t a regular mission. This isn’t one that spends more time in the office strategizing than in the field. This is a hug that tells Harry he won’t be seeing Ron for a long time. 

“Why does it seem like you’re saying goodbye?” Harry whispers into his robes, face pressed against his shoulder. Ron’s hands have found their way into his hair, curled into the locks almost painfully, like he doesn’t want to forget the texture. 

Harry waits with bated breath even though he knows the answer. This is a goodbye. He knew it the second Ron’s arms wrapped around him but he has to know for sure, to hear the words from Ron’s lips in order to believe this was actually happening. He needs to know why Ron is saying goodbye like they aren’t going to see each other again. 

“I’m going on my first mission without you,” Ron says into his hair. Harry needs to see his face though. He needs to look into those blue eyes he loves so much. He does just that, allowing Ron’s arms to stay wrapped around him as he pulls away just enough to look into those blue eyes. 

He instantly regrets it. The worry lacing Ron’s pale freckled features has worry pooling in Harry’s stomach and he knows this is more than a simple mission. “How long?” Harry has to swallow around the lump in his throat. 

The frown doesn’t belong on Ron’s normally smiling lips. It has an ache settling in Harry’s chest. “It could be months.” The words sit heavily between them, air thick as Harry processes months without the one person who has always been by his side. They’ve never spent months apart. 

“When do you leave?” He forces himself to ask. The report can be done at any time. He doesn’t care if he has to come in at four in the morning just to finish. 

Ron’s face tells him all he needs to know before the words even pass his lips. “I had to practically beg them to say goodbye.” Harry’s heart breaks at the words, not even allowed one more night in Ron’s arms before he leaves. “I’ve already used up my time. They’ll be looking for me now.”

Harry doesn’t waste any more time as he connects their lips, trying to memorize the feeling, savor the flavor on his tongue. He barely even gets a moment though before the knock sounds across the small office he shares with Ron, door already opening as they spring apart. 

“It’s time to head out.” Robards looks guilty for only a moment before his face is masked. “We’ll send your stuff along after you.” 

He doesn’t wait for Ron as he turns his back, closing the door part way as he does so. Harry knows he only has a moment as he presses his lips to Ron’s once more. “I love you. Please be safe,” Harry begs, worry already churning his stomach. The next months are going to be hard. 

“I love you and I promise I’ll come back.” 

There is only one more kiss before they hear Robards clearing his throat outside the door. Ron pulls away reluctantly, turning away from him. He holds his hand as long as possible, watching Ron go on his first long term mission without him. 

———————————

Harry doesn’t get much information about the case. He digs around the office, asks a few of their coworkers, but only gets ‘it’s classified’ in reply more often than not. The classified ones are always the most dangerous. They’re kept under wraps because most involve undercover aurors that can’t have their cover blown. They involve more focus, more attention to detail, more time than any short term mission. 

It’s one of the reasons Harry is curious about Ron’s abrupt exit. The classified long term missions sometimes require months of planning before they even go into the field. Ron was normally a lead strategist for most of the long term missions but had never gone on one without Harry. Harry knew Ron wasn’t involved with any long term missions though. The pair tell each other everything even when they aren’t supposed too. 

He has to do a bit of digging for this part. It’s unusual for anyone to be thrown into a mission this big - clearly it was a big mission if it was going to take possibly months to complete - without so much as a day to brief before being sent into the field. 

There are whispers around the office he follows. The mentions of an injuries auror. The talk of some big time undercover job. That same job has already been months in the making and Harry is pretty sure the injured wizard in question is the lead. It’s all hearsay though because it’s been kept under wraps. 

It clicks then. Ron mentioning some strategizing for a big case. Ron barely mentioning details but running off to meetings every few days when he was called. That’s why he was picked. He was involved in the case. Harry just hadn’t dug deeper into the details when Ron was here to ask. It makes sense suddenly why he was chosen, a replacement for the fallen auror that can easily be hidden with a few glamour charms or polyjuice potion. 

The realization makes the dread sit heavily in Harry’s stomach. The injured auror was kept pretty well under wraps. Harry had to dig for that bit of news and only found out because of his connection at St. Mungo’s from his one too many trips there. He didn’t know any details. He didn’t know what happened. He just knew their co-worker was sitting in a hospital bed in a coma and it scared the shit out of Harry. 

What if Ron came back in the same condition? The two had always been there to cover each other’s back. They could read each other like a book after six years in the aurors and a whole childhood of trauma. Harry always knows where Ron is and visa versa. This was different. This was Harry sitting in an empty office he shares with Ron - the only thing they were allowed to share once their relationship became public and only because there were no other offices available and no one would switch - and worrying for any extended amount of time. 

The floor will be worn by the time Ron is back. Harry has to keep reminding himself that Ron will be back. There is no question about it. He will be laughing at his desk in no time, right as rain. There was no way Ron wasn’t coming out of this in one piece even if Harry had to go there himself. 

Ron’s absence is only felt more when he is around the Weasleys, unable to even tell them more than that Ron is on a mission. Even if Harry knew how long the mission would last, he wouldn’t be able to tell them. It leads to a lot of worried glances and nervous chatter around the kitchen table. It also leads to Mrs. Weasley constantly asking if he’d like to stay over in her own worry for Harry, who has always struggled with nightmares that Ron helps tame. He declines every time because he can’t leave the home they share together. He knows it will be the first place Ron will show up if Harry isn’t in the office when he gets back from his mission. 

The pitying looks at the Weasleys end up bleeding into the same looks in the office. It only takes a week of worrying for Harry to throw himself into work. He’s up for promotion anyway and it’s a great excuse to get more cases, do more work to show his loyalty for the department even if he knows everyone realizes what he’s doing. 

It doesn’t really help though. Harry’s new partner - a Hogwarts student fresh out of training - is nothing like Ron. Beth is too cautious for her own good, thinking things through to the point she nearly gets herself killed in the line of fire. Harry knows it will come with time and training but he is so used to working with Ron that it throws him for a loop when he has to be extra aware to keep track of the newbie. 

He ends up spending more time in the office than at home to the point a few coworkers point out the obvious. They don’t get it though. Well, he knows a few do. He can see the empathy written on their faces, ones that have partners on the force, separated in the field after they got together. They get it and they don’t try to tell Harry to slow down or take a break. It’s simply a mutual understanding that falls between them. 

The prospects of a promotion allows him to sniff around a bit more. There is an invite to a meeting here. An invite to a meeting there. It ends up with a few more details in the case Ron’s been on for nearly two months now and only for the fear to sit heavily in his stomach with every word he hears. 

Harry’s been able to gather that he’s infiltrated an underground ring of dark wizards. They’re merciless when it comes to murder but experts at covering their tracks. They’re so good they haven’t been able to trace a single death back to the group and are only connecting on basically no evidence. They have a big drug ring going, potions the department has never even seen before turning up with only one connection and that is a small imprint on the bottom of each bottle. 

It’s all the information he has. 

That is until it’s not. 

The call into Robards office is a surprise especially at nearly seven on a Friday night. It’s nearing the end of Harry’s shift and even though he plans on staying a bit later to do some paperwork, he doesn’t normally get missions if he’s off shift because they’re supposed to be resting. Harry hasn’t rested well in ages so he figures he might as well get a bit more time in at work. The only thing he sees when he closes his eyes is the flashing of green light and Ron’s lifeless body. 

“Gather a team, Potter. Auror Weasley has been compromised.” 

Harry schools his features to hide the panic coursing through his system. 

———————————

“Auror Potter!” It’s then Harry realizes the panic has creeped into his heart and taken his attention away from the details of the case. He snaps back into attention immediately, taking a few deep breaths as he looks around the room. “Do we need to find someone else to lead the mission?” 

Harry wants to jump out of his seat, scream and yell, but he knows that will only add more fuel for Robards to bench him on this case. He couldn’t let that happen so he works hard to keep his cool. “No, I got this,” he replies, voice even. He doesn’t know how it doesn’t waver with all the emotions swirling around in his heart but he doesn’t care. He needs to be on this case. 

Robards narrows his eyes for a moment, staring him down. Harry keeps an even face, mouth thin as he stares right back. It ends with a nod from Robards as he turns his attention back toward the board. 

“Alright, we know that Auror Weasley has been compromised but he indicated it could have been a few days.” Harry’s breath catches at the thought. If this gang was as bad as everyone said, Ron could be dead by now. Why would they bother keeping him around? Harry can’t help his fingers balling up into fists, anger coursing through his system. He’s angry at the department for separating them. He’s angry at the wizards who are currently doing Merlin knows what to Ron. He’s angry for letting this happen. 

“How long ago did he contact you, sir?” Harry asks, voice tense. He has to refrain from showing too much emotion. He doesn’t think this is too much. He’s seen other partners with more anger in situations like this that were partners only at work and best mates outside of work. Harry figures he was doing good. 

“He contacted us about an hour ago.” That’s enough time for him to be dead. That’s enough time for everything to have gone wrong. If they know Ron reported in then he’s definitely dead right now. The fact he’s been compromised for a few days does give Harry hope. That means they want something out of him. It could mean he was still alive. Harry will take that little bit of hope and latch onto it. 

“Why the hell haven’t we left yet?” Harry’s surprised at the outburst, the same words sitting on his tongue for the taking. He looks over to find Ron’s new partner - a young man in his last bout of training, still learning how to separate his emotions from the case - standing now, hands flat on the table. “How are we sitting here when he’s in danger?” 

“Sit down, Auror O’Brian,” Robards commands, eyes narrowed. The room has fallen silent, glancing between Auror O’Brian and Robards. It only takes a moment for Auror O’Brian to sit with a huff. “If we have another outburst, that person is off the case.” He makes a point to make eye contact with Harry. He doesn’t think it’s warranted considering he wouldn’t consider his precious comment an outburst. He had simply asked a question. He nods anyway though. 

“What’s the plan, sir?” Auror Bone’s voice is even as her eyes skim across the board behind Robards. It’s filled with Ron’s messy handwriting and Harry realizes that Ron already had a retrieval thought out before he even knew he would be going on the mission. 

“Auror Weasley planned a get out. We need to be careful though. It sounds like Auror Weasley has enough to put them away so we want to retrieve Auror Weasley and capture as many dark wizards as possible.” Harry can’t help the swell of pride. Ron has gathered enough information to put these arsehole away before the mission was compromised. Ron was an amazing Auror and it showed in every mission he went on. “Auror Potter, don’t make me regret this, but you're in charge of getting Auror Weasley out. The rest of you will be arresting as many dark wizards as possible.” 

Harry sits up at the mention of his name, elbows leaning on the table as he waits for the next set of instructions. He isn’t going to screw this up. He knows Robards is holding back on some of the details of Ron’s state and Harry needs all the information he can get before they go into this. He isn’t stupid enough to put Ron in more danger. There was no way he was going to let carelessness and heightened emotions put Ron in more danger. 

The details are pretty simple. Ron has a way of creating effective but simple plans. Ron’s level of strategizing skills always impresses Harry. He had always had a knack for cheese but it didn’t even touch on his talents. This was something else and Harry wasn’t surprised when Ron’s promotion came before his to lead strategist. They celebrated a lot that night. 

The session is relatively quick, instructions straight forward with the information they have. Ron’s messy handwriting is still easy to follow and he was even able to give a bit of information in his message, including an estimate of the number of dark wizards and information about the building. It made the plan come together a bit easier. 

“We will debrief when everyone is back.” 

The crack of apparition echoes in the room as each person heads to the meeting spot. Harry is last, meeting Robards gaze. He nods once, Harry returning the gesture before he disappears, finding himself in a forest surrounded by his team. 

“Alright, everyone ready?” 

The resounding yeses have everyone moving into position. Harry’s heart pounding as he waits to give the signal until everyone is in position. 

———————————

The air is heavy in a way that has a chill running down Harry’s spine. The place practically reeks of dark magic, the buzz felt with each step as they enter the building, wands ready. They know the jist of the layout thanks to Ron which is why Harry finds himself leading the team entering the back of the building. 

He doesn’t like the silence that has settled. It has suspicion rising as he waves his team on, indicating for them to go into the next room, another empty area. It’s the last hint he needs to realize they’ve been expected. They must have found out Ron reported back. This wasn’t a surprise attack anymore and one signal to his team alerts them of his suspicions. 

The realization has each member on high alert. They don’t know when the enemy is going to attack and each is muttering their own set of spells in order to make sure everything in the room is revealed. It doesn’t sit well with Harry when the room comes up empty, not even a trap set to catch them. 

The silence makes it easy to catch even the slightest sound. The groan easily catches his attention and he has to hold himself back before he sprints through the house. He knows that groan. He knows Ron is somewhere in this house, pain coursing through him. Harry has to remain calm though. He can’t give their position away yet. He can’t make this worse. 

Harry indicates for his team to enter the next room. The second Harry’s foot is over the threshold he’s casting a protection spell, the trap bouncing off and setting off a series of them. The team is quick, all equipped to handle such a situation. Harry makes sure to keep a note on where each team member is as he casts spells to stop each trap, protecting himself and a few of his teammates as the traps quickly die down. 

The last of the traps putter out in only seconds and Harry assesses his team, getting a nod from each that they’re okay before they move to the next room. 

This one is the first to have wizards in it and the fight breaks out the second Harry enters. The team is quick to follow, throwing spells over his shoulders, the room abuzz as he fires spell after spell toward the dark wizards. He’s partially hit with one, a moment too late with his protection spell as it catches his arm. It stings but he shakes it off as he fires one back, capturing the wizard and vanishing them to the drop point for their arrest. 

The chaos is exasperated when they hear shoots from another room. It seems the other team has officially run into dark wizards. Harry is pretty sure they’re about two rooms away which means Ron has to be somewhere in between. The thought has his knuckles white as he casts a particularly nasty spell at the person in front of the door, turning to get Susan’s attention over his shoulder. 

“We’ve got it from here,” she insists, casting a spell over his shoulder. He casts a protection spell back for her. “Get Ron out. I’ll cover you.” Harry nods once, turning his attention back toward the door. Susan is a fantastic Auror and in charge of the arrests. She was second only to Harry until he got out and she could easily lead the group from there. Harry trusts her as he makes his way to the door, casting spells in order to help his team. 

He had been right in assuming Ron would be in one of the next rooms. He’s actually just through the next door and Harry’s heart stops when he sees him in a heap on the floor, crumpled to the ground in a puddle of his own blood. 

This is always the point where Harry has to work the hardest to keep his emotions in check. He can feel his magic flaring. He can feel it coursing through his veins and he has to take a breath to calm himself before he casts his next spell, causing a dark wizard to fly backwards into the wall. It sets off a new wave of light as Aurors enter from both sides, the room coming alight as spells zoom across the room. 

Harry doesn’t know how he gets there but suddenly Ron is on the ground in front of him, breath shallow in a way that has panic coursing through Harry’s system. He’s never seen Ron in such a state before. Ron’s been seriously injured before but Harry’s never seen so much blood. This wasn’t the work of magic but sadistic arseholes who were having too much fun utilizing muggle weapons. 

“Get him out!” Susan shouts, casting a protection spell over the two. It’s easier said than done. They can’t apparate in or out of the building and Harry’s terrified he’ll only make Ron worse if he moves him. 

He’s surprised when Susan points her wand at Ron, muttering a few spells. “Stasis spell should help with the bleeding. And a weightless spell. Snap out of it, Harry. Get him out now.”

And Harry does snap out of it. The weightless spell has him hoisting Ron against his side, nearly crying out when he notices the damage that’s been done. Ron is even worse than he imagined and Harry panics when he doesn’t feel the stuttering of breath against his cheek. “Shit!” The spells are past his lips before he can stop them, magic swirling as he heads toward the door. The protection charm is the strongest he’s ever made and the spells satisfyingly bounce off as he pushes his way out the back door. 

There are only a few stray spells that wize past him as he gets just beyond the trees, the crackle of apparition echoing across the trees as he disappears with Ron hanging off his shoulder, completely lifeless against him. 

———————————

The healers had been warned ahead of time that Harry would be bringing in an injured Auror so he isn’t surprised to find himself surrounded when he arrives at St. Mungo’s Auror ward. The group is quick to action as they levitate Ron onto a gurnee all the while Harry doesn’t let go of his lifeless hand. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Harry asks as one of the healers steps beside him to press a hand over one of his bleeding wounds. He notices that a few healers have done the same, each holding gaze. It’s then Harry notes the stasis spell seems to be wearing as blood starts to seep through the white fabric. 

“We will do everything we can Auror Potter,” the healer says. “But you’ll need to step back and let us work.” It’s probably the hardest thing Harry has ever done in his life. He doesn’t want Ron out of his sight ever again but he knows he has to let the healers work. It was the only way he was going to see those blue eyes open ever again. 

“Please be okay, Ron,” Harry mutters, letting out a breath as he takes a step back. The healers snap into attention then, pushing through the pair of white doors into what Harry knows is the equivalent of a surgery room. 

He wishes the time wasn’t passing so slowly. The clock ticks on the wall and Harry can only watch the hands as they move slower than any creature possible. It doesn’t help that he can’t settle down either. He can’t help but pace the room, the receptionist glaring at him. Harry’s a bit surprised she hasn’t told him to calm down but he’s thankful. He’d only snap at her in reply. 

The ten minutes by himself crawl by until he hears the crack and Mrs. Weasley’s worried voice as she hurries over to him. He doesn’t really know what she’s saying, can only see Ron’s mangled body as she pulls him into a hug. He feels guilty for a moment, realizing he has blood on his clothes, coating his fingers. It’s her son’s blood that Harry is sure will stain her back as he wraps his fingers in her dress, holding on as he lets his emotions get the best of him, lets the tears fall. 

It’s been a rough few hours of control, control, control and he can’t help but let that slip as she holds him, the closest thing he’s ever had to a mother. She’s whispering reassurances to him, running her fingers through the back of his hair just like Ron does when Harry is upset. It’s comforting and only makes Harry cry harder as he allows Mrs. Weasley to walk him to the seats along the wall. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes before the whole Weasley clan is there to witness his break down, each somber in their own grief. He’s able to calm himself down enough to explain a bit about the situation, as much as is allowed since the case won’t be closed for a long time coming. He doesn’t have any information on Ron and he tells them such. Mr. Weasley believes that is a good sign. It means they’re still working hard in order to save Ron. 

Because that is what they’re doing. Harry chokes out that Ron wasn’t breathing when they got here. The healers were bringing him back to life because Harry had felt his lifeless body next to him, unmoving and Harry can’t help the tears as he tells the Weasleys the state of their son, of their brother. 

“Harry, dear, it’s going to be okay,” Mrs. Weasley is holding him again, Mr. Weasley on his other side with a comforting hand on his shoulder. He’s never lost it like this in front of the family before, not since right after the war. He can feel the worried looks but he doesn’t care right now. Ron was basically dead when he saw him last and that thought alone has dread coursing through his veins, nausea creeping up his throat. 

“You didn’t see him,” he cries, pulling away so he can look at Mrs. Weasley. He realizes then how upset she is, tears tracked down her cheeks. She looks older than ever right now as she runs her fingers through Harry’s hair, holding herself together for the sake of her children. “You didn’t see him.” 

Mrs. Weasley pulls him close again, exchanging a look with her husband as she rubs soothingly up and down Harry’s back. The waiting room is oddly silent after that. The occasional mutters from a Weasley or sniffle from Harry the only sounds in the room. 

Until it isn’t. 

The door opens and Harry doesn’t know how much time has passed until he pulls his face away from Mrs. Weasley’s shoulder. The glance at the clock says four hours have passed. It’s been four hours of torment as they wait for answers that they are going to get now. 

“Auror Potter,” the healer calls, finding the only dark haired man among a room of redheads. Harry wipes at his eyes furiously, hurrying to greet the healer. He simply gets a questioning look as the healer looks at the large group gathered in the waiting area, all anxious for some news. 

“This is Auror Weasley’s family,” Harry answers, noting that his voice is rough and scratchy. He clears his throat as the healer nods. 

“Auror Weasley retrieved extensive damage to his legs and chest, including a punctured lung. The damage to his head indicates he took quite a few blows. His right hand was shattered when he came in. We were able to repair some of the damage and are waiting for the results of Skele-Gro but expect that will aid a great deal in his recovery. He is currently in a coma right now and at the moment we do not know when or if he will wake up but his condition is stable otherwise. The lung took an extensive amount of work but we were able to repair it with minimal permanent damage.”

The resounding gasp from the family is all Harry can hear over the pounding in his ears. Ron was in a coma and it didn’t sound like they knew if he is going to come out of it. He was in a coma and may never come back to Harry. 

Harry can’t help it when his knees connect with the ground, back shaking as he works to suck each breath into his lung. Mrs. Weasley is there only a moment later, holding him as he sobs for the man he loves. 

———————————

Harry’s heart is pounding when he goes in to see Ron with Mrs. Weasley. It’s only two at a time and Mr. Weasley was kind enough to let Harry go first with his wife. Harry was thankful as he doesn’t think he could wait any longer. The last time he saw Ron he wasn’t breathing. He needed to see his chest rise and fall with reassurance. 

The magic is buzzing in the room as Harry pushes the door open. It’s a rather large room, a special one set aside for aurors. Harry is thankful for the couch across the wall, his permanent home until Ron was able to return to theirs. He doesn’t focus on that though, eyes drawn to the man lying motionless in bed. 

He’s thankful Mrs. Weasley has chosen to grab his hand, allowing him something to tether himself with. It’s grounding as she squeezes, watching Harry with cautious eyes as they approach the bed. 

Harry wants to throw up at the sight that greets him. He’s never seen Ron in such bad shape before. The bandages are covering a majority of his body and it looks like breathing is a chore. There seems to be pain scrunching his features even in his sleep and Harry can’t imagine how much pain he must be in if he’s feeling it even with pain potions coursing through his system. 

“I-“ Harry watches as Ron’s hand twitches a bit and Harry reaches forward to wrap his fingers around it. Ron’s don’t move to hold on. “I’m so sorry,” Harry chocks out, dropping in the chair next to Ron. 

The hand on his shoulder startles him, Mrs. Weasley forgotten in his grief. He blinks blurry green eyes up to meet her worried ones and she presses a gentle hand to his cheek. “This isn’t your fault, Harry,” she reassures. Harry can’t help the guilt though. If he had been on the case, he could have helped sooner. He doesn’t know how but he would have found a way. 

“I just-“ He chokes on his words, turning his attention back to Ron. He’s going to be covered in scars. The cuts littering his body were days old by the time he arrived which left the healers less of a chance to heal him without scars. There was going to be a particularly nasty one across his cheek the healer expressed worry about. “I can’t live without him.” 

“He’s going to wake up,” Mrs. Weasley answers immediately. She has an arm resting across his shoulders and she places a hand gently on Ron’s cheek. “He’s strong.”

Harry isn’t reassured as he turns his gaze back toward Ron, never letting go of his hand. He doesn’t move when Mrs. Weasley switches for Mr. Weasley or when the Weasley siblings and spouses start to trickle in one by one, no one even asking if they can have Harry’s spot. The only person missing is Hermione, away with her parents without even the knowledge that Ron is injured. He asks Mrs. Weasley to let her know in one of his moments of clarity. 

Harry doesn’t even have to call in sick when the sun trickles through the window. Mr. Weasley has done just that for him and Harry is thankful he doesn’t have to deal with his boss right now, not while he waits for Ron to wake from his coma. 

It’s only after the first 24 hours that he starts to worry. The trickle of healers causes more buzz as they mutter to themselves and Harry worries as he watches Ron, willing him to, “wake up. Please, wake up. I love you. I can’t do this without you.” The words seem to fall on deaf ears but he is suddenly reassured that some people in a coma can hear and he’s encouraged to keep talking. 

And so he doesn’t really stop. 

He talks about their days in Hogwarts and training. He talks about when they got together. He talks about moving into their current apartment. He talks about how proud he is of Ron’s promotion, proving everyone wrong with how smart he is. He talks about their future. He doesn’t touch on it much, muttering every once and a while about marriage and children, both things they’ve discussed happening in the not so distant future. 

“Please just come back to me,” Harry mutters, Mrs. Weasley’s hand on his shoulder. 

“I think you should get some sleep, dear,” she suggests. He’s been sitting in the same chair for almost two days as people filter in and out. He hasn’t slept a wink and he doesn’t think he will. “I’ll keep an eye on him. I promise I’ll wake you if there’s any news.”

Harry just needs one glance at her face to know he isn’t winning this battle and he trudged to the couch, collapsing in exhaustion. He’s surprised how little effort it takes for his eyes to close, not realizing how tired he had been. 

He doesn’t know how long he sleeps but he finds hands running through his hair when he wakes, Hermione’s worried brown eyes watching him carefully. He’s thankful to have his friend there and easily pulls her into a hug the second he’s up. She’s crying into his shoulder, and Harry rubs her back as he watches Ron. 

He notes that his breathing seems to be better. The healers did announce his lung was healing nicely. He doesn’t seem to be in as much pain as before. Harry can tell from the way his face has smoothed. He’s thankful that the potions seem to be helping. 

It’s sudden when the groan echoes in the large room. Hermione has calmed down at this point, her head resting on his shoulder and the two startle apart when they both notice Ron’s fingers moving, feeling around the sheets a bit. 

Harry nearly trips as he crosses the room, wrapping his fingers around Ron’s. The other’s grip is weak, but his fingers wrap around Harry’s. Harry’s breath catches as he watches those blue eyes flutter open, mouth opening and closing. Hermione offers him water that Ron sucks down, groaning when a cough leaves his lips in his haste for the liquid. 

He’s looking at Harry now in a bit of a haze, eyes unfocused. “Am I dreaming?” He mutters and Harry can’t help the teary laugh that leaves his lips as he leans forward to brush his fingers across Ron’s cheeks. 


	2. aching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron wakes up with a lot more problems than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fanfiction. I'm making it up as I go. 
> 
> There is a good chance we have some medial inaccuracies both wizard and muggle alike. If you don't mind, please keep reading.

Harry isn’t able to get even a quiet  _ I love you _ in before Ron is drifting off again, blue eyes fluttering closed only after they meet Harry’s worried green. It doesn’t matter anyway because it seems the whole of St. Mungo’s staff rushes into the room only moments later. Harry is practically shoved from the side of the bed in their haste, left to watch with Hermione from the sidelines as they run test after test on Ron. 

Harry can’t gauge if it’s good either. They mutter amongst themselves and frown more often than not. Harry feels helpless as he watches. He tries to get any bit of information he can but he can’t seem to take his focus off Ron’s face. The pain is back now. He can see it across the scrunch of his forehead, and the frown pulling down his normally smiling lips. 

“Mr. Potter?” Harry is so focused on Ron that he misses Healer Miller approaching them. 

Harry’s heart jumps into his throat at the solemn look on the witch's face. The words are caught in his throat, questions on his lips. He had allowed himself some semblance of hope when Ron opened his eyes but it seems it was only false hope. He should have known better. 

“What is it?” Hermione finally asks. Harry is thankful when her hand slips into his, giving it a tight squeeze. It doesn’t reassure him in the least. 

“It would seem Auror Weasley had a substantial amount of drugs in his system when he was brought it. They were undetectable when he first arrived which we believe is due to the nature of the potions. They aren’t in our usual tests because we haven’t seen them before. The potions seem to be keeping him in some state of pain and are hindering the healing process which is why he hasn’t woken up sooner.” Harry wonders if it is similar to the illegal drugs they’ve connected with this particular group of dark wizards. 

“It would also seem they’ve cursed his hand. The Skelo-Grow is having minimal effect. We have a team on it but it seems this curse is like the potion, something we haven’t seen before. It would seem his hand will need to heal the muggle way until we can find something to reverse the damage. We will be setting the bone properly in order to start the healing process as the Skelo-Grow has not done nearly as much as we were hoping.” Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. That was Ron’s  _ wand _ hand that was smashed to pieces.

“It did help his legs though which are healing nicely so we can assume they didn’t curse them. His lung is healing properly though slower than expected. We believe it will be healed completely within a day or two with the aid of a few spells along with the majority of his cuts. There are a few that seem to be under a similar curse as his hand, but they don’t pose as much of a threat at the moment and the healing process is going along nicely.” 

It’s too much information in one go. Harry can’t process as he watches Ron, eyes scanning over the countless cuts still littering his body. Harry can’t imagine how much pain he must be in right now.

“May I join in the research process?” Hermione asks immediately, barely even allowing Healer Miller a breath. Harry is thankful as he doesn’t know what to say. They’ve gotten injured before but never this badly. It’s normally a week, possibly two of recovery and then they’re out in the field. If Ron’s hand - his  _ wand  _ hand - didn’t heal properly it could take months before he’s ready to go back into the field and even then there was a chance he wasn’t ever going to be one hundred percent again. Harry didn’t know much about muggle recovery but he remembers when Dudley broke his arm at five he was in a cast for two months and then had to do physical therapy and that was a clean break if he remembered correctly. Ron’s hand was smashed to pieces. He was going to be devastated. 

Harry trusted Hermione though. She wouldn’t give up. If anyone could find a countercurse, he had no doubt it was Hermione. There was no one better at research than her. He just had to keep telling himself that she would figure this out as always. 

“Oh,” Healer Miller looks a bit surprised by the suggestion. Harry is sure they’ve never gotten such a request before. “I don’t see why not. I can have someone from our staff show you to the library.” 

Hermione nods, determination written across her features. Harry is reminded of all those times they researched in school, Hermione sitting behind a pile of books. This isn’t school though and Ron wouldn’t be joining them to complain about having to study in the library. 

“Harry, I’m going to head to the library to start on some research.” Hermione calls his attention away from Ron, lying helpless in his bed. He looks to be in agony now and Harry is curious how that potion works. He seemed better only an hour ago. “I’ll get Mrs. Weasley and we can update her on Ron.” Hermione has always been good under stress and he’s thankful for the calm she is exuding right now. 

“How would I be able to get a sample of the potion? Does it show up in his blood?” Harry asks. “I’d like to bring it to our lab. We have samples of the potions the dark wizards were manufacturing. This could help with the analysis.” 

Healer Miller seems to think this over for a moment before replying. “The latest analysis shows it has shown up in small amounts in his blood. The best we can do is give you some of his blood but I don’t know how much of a reading you’ll be able to get.”

“It’s something,” Harry answers. It seems the tests have been complete and Harry watches as they draw a few vials of blood from Ron’s arm. Harry assumes they’re going to run further tests, see what they can pull. It could give them more hints on the effects of the potion at least which could lead to treatments. 

Healer Miller nods in agreement, waiting only a moment to see if they have any more questions. When neither Harry nor Hermione ask, she joins the rest of her team. Harry wants to listen in, but Ron’s breath has picked up in that way that indicates he’s having a nightmare. 

“I’ll get Mrs. Weasley.” Harry nods in answer to Hermione as he steps forward, resting his hand over Ron’s good one. It twitches under his touch and Harry wishes he could pull him out of this, make all of the pain go away 

———————————

The office goes quiet when Harry walks into work the next day. Ron is still unconscious, only barely coherent for a single moment during the night where he mumbled more about pain than anything else before he fell back asleep. Harry hadn’t been particularly pleased he had to leave Ron’s side, but Robards wanted a full debriefing and Harry knows he’s going to have to put in for more time off at this point anyway. 

The silence is deafening as Harry weaves around desks and tries to avoid every pitying look he’s getting in the office. He had to work himself up to even walk in the door, spending a few minutes outside simply taking in a few deep breaths. He knew it was going to be tense, but he hadn’t realized it would be this bad. 

Harry feels every set of eyes follow his around the office, because of course Robards office is the furthest from the door. It takes everything in him not to scream and yell at his coworkers, tell them to go the fuck back to work and mind their own business. This was a dangerous field, people got hurt all the time.

Of course, people normally didn’t get injected with illegal potions they had no records of. They didn’t even know what other effects the potion could have on Ron’s body or how long it would stay in his system. They simply knew it amplified pain and slowed the healing process. It was like he was still being tortured after he being rescued and Harry really hopes they figure something out soon. He hates seeing Ron in pain. 

The first whisper as Harry gets to the door has him wishing for the silence again. The quiet in the room has it echoing across the cubicles, Harry pausing in step. “Do you think Ron’s okay?” Harry doesn’t know who says it. He doesn’t know that many people in the office. Ron was the friendly one. Ron was the social cowork who could always come up with a name and a story. 

Harry has to stop himself from crumbling. He wants to yell and scream, but it wasn’t their coworkers fault Ron was still at St. Mungo’s. This wasn’t something his coworker could fix so he simply balls his fists and knocks on Robards door. 

He takes in a deep breath before he pushes the door open. It closes with a soft click behind him just so Harry can take another moment to compose himself before he turns to face his boss. 

Robards is sitting behind a stack of paperwork that he has to push aside to get a proper view of Harry. He looks a bit tired, but Harry knows this is one of the biggest cases they’ve had in years. There is going to be mounds of paperwork to go with it and that doesn’t even include the legal preparations for this case. 

“Sit down, Auror Potter,” Robards invites, gesturing to the small cushioned chair in front of his desk. Harry does as he’s told, letting his hands twist nervously in his lap. He knows it’s a weakness, sees Robards glance toward his fingers, but he’s never been able to sit still when he’s anxious and his anxiety was sky high with Ron in his condition. “How have you been?” 

Harry is relieved when Robards turns his gaze away from his hands, but the second they make eye contact Harry realizes he’s going to have to relive one of the worst moments of his life. He fought Voldemort and died, but that seemed like a cakewalk compared to seeing Ron, his love, so broken. 

“I’ve been better, sir,” Harry answers. He knows he must look a mess. He spent the majority of yesterday trying not to cry only to fail when Ron woke up in the middle of the night basically incoherent and in severe pain only to pass out a few minutes later. He’s barely gotten more than a few hours of sleep in days and doesn’t see himself getting much more until Ron is fully cognizant. Actually, he doesn’t see himself getting much sleep until Ron is fully recovered which could be months. 

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through, Harry.” Robards actually sounds sympathetic. The use of his first name is unusually personable for their boss, which tips Harry off that Robards probably feels a bit guilty. Harry hopes he feels guilty for separating them. Harry doesn’t know if it would have helped, but likes to think he would have known sooner if Ron was compromised if they hadn’t been separated in the field. 

Harry doesn’t want sympathy right now though. Harry came to do his job. He has to separate himself enough from Ron that he can give Robards a basic rundown of the mission. He needs to get it over with as soon as possible so he can get back to Ron sooner. 

“What did you want to see me for, sir?” Robards frowns, clearly catching onto his business as usual tone. Harry watches as he schools his features, nodding as he reaches for a smaller pile of papers on his desk. 

“I’d like to get your account from the raid. The more information we can gather on these dark wizards, the longer we can put them away.” 

“But you said Ron had enough to put them away,” Harry accuses. Ron did not go into that situation and suffer like he did for nothing. Robards said he had enough to put them all away. This couldn’t be for nothing. 

“Yes, we hope he does but we don’t know what state he’ll be in when he wakes. We have to cover all avenues possible to be prepared.” Harry doesn’t miss the hanging  _ for the worst _ in the air and he frowns at his boss. He isn’t going to argue though. He knows Ron will be fine. He doesn’t need validation. They’re going to get through this. 

“As you know, we apparated just outside the mansion,” Harry starts, going into detail about his team, the traps and the dark wizards. He gives as much detail about the fight, trying to recount the use of any unforgivables to help with the case. 

He has to pause when he starts on Ron. He can see the room in front of him, feels the shock like it is happening right now as he sees Ron’s lifeless body. He sees the curses flying around but he can only focus on Ron, Ron, Ron. He’s honest when he talks about his departure because he doesn’t remember much. Ron had literally been lifeless next to him, not even the assurance of the rise and fall of his chest to ease even an ounce of his worry. Robards luckily doesn’t push and Harry is thankful for that fact. 

“Thank you, Auror Potter,” he says when Harry finishes his recount of the story. Robards has jotted down a few notes and he hopes he’s given enough information to satisfy him. “That should be enough for today.” Harry lets out a sigh, thankful Robards isn’t pushing for more detail. Harry has been in similar positions before and Robards has pushed a lot harder for even the smallest of details that may help with the case.

Harry watches as emotions seem to play over Robards face, like he is contemplating asking a question. Harry doesn’t allow him, breaking the awkward silence by clearing his throat. “I’m going to need a bit more time off.”

Robards seems to sour at the prospect. Harry knows he’s asking for a lot because Robards has already lost one of his more experienced aurors, who just so happens to be lead strategist for the department. “I’d like to remind you that you are up for promotion.”

And Harry knows that. He’s been waiting for this promotion for nearly a year when he found out that Auror Robins was retiring and a senior Auror position would open. It’s something he’s been working so hard on but some things were more important than a promotion. 

“I know, sir, but I’ll need to take a bit more time off. Auror Weasley is unstable at the moment and will need assistance in his recovery.” He wants to give himself a pat on the back for keeping his voice so even. 

Robards stares him down for a moment, frown tugging down his lips before he finally speaks. “Auror Weasley will be in good hands then. Please let Scarlet know how long you’ll be out. I know you have plenty of sick time reserved.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Harry says. It feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders only for that weight to be replaced with the prospect of nursing Ron back to health. 

“Wish Auror Weasley well.”

And Harry knows that’s the end of the conversation so he agrees and wishes his boss a good day before he hurries out of the room. It’s been nearly an hour at this point and he needs to get back to Ron. He wants to be there when he wakes again. 

The only problem is that the office is bustling now and Susan catches sight of him before he can hurry back to St. Mungo’s. Harry does let out a frustrated sigh when she calls over to him, masking it as she hurries over. 

“Harry, how are you?” She asks, a soft smile on her lips. Harry can see the question in her eyes. She wants to ask about Ron but doesn’t know how to bring it up. He doesn’t really know how to answer that either. It’s written all over his face, purple splotches bruising his eyes. Susan seems to realize it was the wrong question and her soft smile turns apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t- how is Ron?” 

“It’s fine,” Harry replies, a bit quick. He wants to get back. “Ron’s still unconscious. I’m actually heading back now.” 

Susan seems to get the hint and doesn’t seem to take offense to his chipped tone. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’ll do what I can to help.” She reaches out to touch his shoulder but seems to think better of it before she drops her hand. Harry is thankful because he knows he’d simply flinch away. He’s been having trouble with even Mrs. Weasley touching him lately, his worry keeping him on edge. 

“Thanks,” Harry mutters, glancing at the door. 

“I’m actually heading to the lab so I’ll see you around,” she smiles and Harry is thankful for the out. The only problem is that out is covered up by Ron’s new partner. 

“Harry!” That's O’Brian drawing every single eye to Harry as he nearly trips over a desk in his haste to get to Harry. Harry was already on edge and he didn’t exactly have the patients for O’Brian who took most of his patients on a good day. 

“I got it,” Susan mutters and Harry is so thankful for her right now. 

“I’m just heading out, O’Brian. I think Auror Bones was looking for you,” because he can’t just run away. O’Brian is definitely the type to chase him down if he’s ignored. 

He doesn’t let Auror O’Brian reply as he hurries out the door, relieved he’ll be seeing Ron in only a few minutes. 

———————————

The rain is pattering against the window, clouds dark and ominous. It doesn’t get past Harry that the weather is mimicking how he feels. The dark clouds filled with negative thoughts as Ron remains unconscious more often than not. The rain is the nagging thoughts that keep telling him that Ron may never wake up from this. Ron may never recover from this. It’s like the dark cloud is over his own head as he holds onto Ron’s hand desperately so the wind doesn’t blow him away. 

The tight grip is the only reason he knows not to listen to his thoughts. It’s the little twitch of Ron’s fingers, different from his normal sleep tremors. This was actually a purposeful shift as they tighten around Harry’s hand, holding on so tightly so suddenly that Harry thinks he might bruise. He doesn’t care though, not as he jumps up from his seat to see a pair of blue eyes fluttering open among the bandages. 

Harry’s breath stutters as he catches sight of those eyes. They’re vibrant and alive. Harry hasn’t seen anything but stormy blue in those short moments where Ron opened his eyes only to close them moments later and drift back off. 

This was finally it. Ron was finally coming back to him and Harry can’t move. He can’t even breath as he waits for Ron to say something. He never wants to look away, never wants Ron out of his sight again. 

“Ha-“ Ron coughs, and Harry finally snaps out of it. He won’t let go of Ron’s hand so he ends up reaching over himself awkwardly to grab the small pitcher of water, pouring it with shaky hands into the provided plastic cup. It spills over the edge a bit, but Harry doesn’t care as his fingers wrap around the wet glass, careful as he holds it to Ron’s lips. 

The other drinks gratefully, careful this time as he takes slow slips. The hand in his is shaking as he finally sits back from the glass, breath heavy as he angles his head to look at Harry. 

And oh the pain written on his face. 

Harry could cry as Ron groans. Ron’s obviously trying to hold back tears as he shifts in an attempt to get into a more comfortable position. Harry assumes it doesn’t work because he’s never seen Ron in this much pain before. 

“Harry,” Ron finally says, breaking the silence and Harry watches as his lips quiver and he squeezes his eyes shut. “It hurts so much. Why does it hurt so much?” 

Harry can feel the tears prickly his own eyes. He wants to touch. He wants to reach forward and brush Ron’s greasy hair from his forehead, still covered in a bandage. He doesn’t know if it will hurt though. He doesn’t want Ron to be in more pain than he already is. 

“It’s okay,” Harry tries, hand hovering. It craves to touch, but Ron is shifting away and Harry knows it will hurt. Do the sheets hurt? Is he in that much pain? They needed to find out more about this potion. 

Harry still doesn’t get it. How was someone so sadistic that they wanted the person to be in pain for days on end? How could they be so cruel to allow cuts to go unheals just to watch the blood dribble out for Merlin knows how long? These people were sick and had no intentions of using this potion for anything other than afflicting pain. Harry can’t wait until they get put away for good. 

“Am I out?” Ron’s voice is weak as he says it, finally taking a moment to glance around. “I’m not dreaming, right?” Harry’s heart is broken as he watches the agony play on Ron’s features even visible through bandages. Harry doesn’t know when he’ll be able to take the bandages off. 

“No,” Harry breathes as he finally reaches forward because he needs the reassurance. The bandages are rough on his skin but he doesn’t miss the way Ron leans into the touch, tears finally falling from his eyes. 

“Shit, I bloody love you,” Ron breaths, breath hitching. Harry can tell he’s getting worked up, can see the stutter in his chest, still healing from his punctured lung. 

“Ron,” Harry starts, voice quiet and gentle. The reaction has Harry absolutely terrified because this seems much worse than two or three days kidnapped. It doesn’t help that Ron himself looks terrified with his wet eyes and his trembling limbs. “How long?” Harry can’t even choke out the word torture. 

Ron’s breaths are too fast, his chest stuttering with each inhale. Harry knows he has to do something to help Ron calm down, knows Ron will only make things worse if he doesn’t even his breathing. 

Harry is careful as he lifts Ron’s hand, trying to be as gentle as possible as he prise his fingers open, placing them over Harry’s chest. It’s then Harry realizes how fast his own heart rate is going, and works to calm his breathing and heart rate as much as he can, watching Ron’s chest slow down in the process. 

“Date?” Ron finally manages around a groan. Harry can see him attempting to move, tears wetting the large bandage on his cheek. “What’s the date?” 

Harry has to think for a moment. He’s been in the hospital about four days now which means it’s, “The 27th.” 

Ron’s whole body goes rigid at the date and Harry wants to panic but Ron’s hand is still against his chest and he can’t get him worked up. “The 29th. I lost count around 15 or so.” 

Harry could break down then and there. Ron had been tortured for nearly a month. How had they not known? How had Ron even contacted them to begin with? Harry had so many questions but Ron was already falling back asleep, his eyes sliding closed and his breath evening out. 

“It’s okay, love. It’s going to be okay now. Just sleep and I’ll be here when you wake up,” Harry whispers. Ron is already asleep before he even finishes. Harry collapses into a heap in the chair, gentle as he places Ron’s hand on the bed. 

He breaks the moment Ron’s hand rests safely on the bed. 

———————————

Hermione’s hair is wild when she walks into Ron’s private room at St. Mungo’s. Harry’s reminded so much of late nights studying at Hogwarts and hours spent in the library where Harry and Ron fooled around more than studied much to Hermione’s distress. The thought is only fleeting though as she nearly chucks a book at his head in her hurried frenzy into the room. 

“I think we found something,” she explains. The book now in Harry’s lap is flipped open, pages worn and wrinkled, as Hermione points to a lengthy potion in the middle of the book. “They’ve been testing it against Ron’s blood and it seems to dilute the potion in his system. It could null the effect.” 

“And you think it will work?” Because Harry needs her reassurance. He trusts Hermione more than anyone at St. Mungo’s or even the Auror department. She has a tendency to find a solution to everything. 

“Yeah, I think it will work,” she says, sure and determined. Harry watches the emotions flicker though, watches the resolve crumble. It’s slight and Harry knows someone who doesn’t know her nearly as well wouldn’t notice the small drop to her lips or the shift of her gaze. 

“Hermione?” 

“Well, I think it will work but we have no guarantees here. There could still be side effects,” she explains. She looks disappointed, like she’s failed a test except this is Ron’s life and Harry can’t imagine how guilty she’s feeling for not finding something more. 

“I know, Hermione, but we have to try. He’s in so much pain,” Harry explains, the words catching in his throat. He feels the tug of tears as he thinks back to his first conversation with Ron and Harry knows they have to try anything. Even if it only lessens the pain. 

Hermione’s tired eyes meet his, hand reaching forward to rest on his shoulder in a comforting manner. It’s the first time he’s even seen her since the doctor spoke to them. 

“He woke up a few hours ago,” Harry explains, eyes never leaving Ron. He still has a firm grip on his hand. “He was in so much pain. He was being tortured for weeks, Hermione. It was so much longer than we thought. I don’t even know how he got out alive.” 

The tears are falling freely down his cheeks now. He can’t remember a time he’s ever shed so many tears before but all he can think about is that he nearly lost Ron. “We barely made it in time,” Harry cries, Hermione’s arms slip around his shoulders. It’s an awkward angle as he wraps his arms around her and cries into her side as she stands next to him. 

“Harry.” The voice is weak, laced with pain and longing. Harry feels the shaking fingers against his cheek, breath catching when he turns to meet loving blue eyes. “It’s okay. I’m here now.” How can Ron be so strong? He’s the one in the hospital bed and yet he’s the one comforting Harry. It’s always been like that. Ron’s always taken care of him. 

The words only have Harry crying harder as he releases Hermione and grabs Ron’s hand with his own. He brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to each finger before he presses it to his cheek again. 

“How are you so strong?” Harry asks. Hermione’s hand is resting on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. The question gets him a weak laugh, but even in this state it’s music to Harry’s ears. 

“I have you,” Ron replies and yeah, Harry melts a bit at the words. They’re not usually this vocal about their feelings. They’re the type of people who show their love through their action but this was different. Ron nearly died and Harry needs Ron to know how much he means to him. 

“I love you,” Harry whispers. He barely notices Hermione’s hand leaving his shoulder, sitting on the couch in an attempt to give them a moment of privacy. 

“I love you too.” Ron’s voice is strained though and Harry can tell he’s in pain. He’s simply masking it for Harry’s sake but the pain is twisting his features as Harry watches him, making the hand against his cheek shake. 

“Hermione thinks they’ve found something that will help,” Harry explains but Ron stiffens at the words, shifting so he’s looking at the ceiling rather than Harry. Harry sees him swallow, watches as he takes in a breath, still stuttered with his injured lung. 

“Hermione has to be there the whole time,” Ron finally says, looking at Harry pleadingly. Hermione is up again, standing at his shoulder as they both watch Ron. “I just- they forced me to take potion after potion. They got enjoyment out of watching me take the potions because the reaction was basically immediate.” 

Ron’s breath has picked up at his explanation and Harry can tell he isn’t in this room right now. He’s back at the mansion, with those dark wizards doing who knows what to him. The potion was only the tip of the iceberg. It didn’t explain his legs, hand or the cuts now littering his body. 

“Hermione needs to watch the whole process,” Ron stresses and Harry knows he has to pull him back. He’s falling further and further into his memories and Harry carefully reaches forward to brush his fingers against Ron’s cheek, taking slow and deliberate breaths as he brings Ron’s hand to his chest. 

“Hermione will watch the whole process, I promise,” Harry reassures. He hears Hermione agree over his shoulder and both wait patiently as Ron’s breathing starts to even out again. The slow blinking of blue eyes seems to bring him back with each flicker of his eyelids until he’s finally looking at Harry again. 

“It hurts,” he whispers, voice strained. Those blue eyes flicker to their hands and Harry realizes he’s holding a bit too tight. It takes everything in him not to just drop Ron’s hand in his panic, instead placing it carefully on the bed and simply resting his hand over Ron’s. 

“We’ll figure this out.” 

Ron is already out when the words leave Harry’s lips. He wonders when he’ll get more than a few painful minutes with him again. He wonders if this potion will even work. He wonders how much damage has actually been done. This potion wasn’t going to be a cure all and it probably wouldn’t even touch Ron’s hand, still healing at a muggles pace. Harry had to remind himself that it is healing. The healer came in yesterday to rewrap his hand and explained the bones had set nicely. 

“I’ll get to the lab so we can start,” Hermione hugs him, but Harry can only nod in reply as he watches Ron’s face scrunch in pain. 

———————————

The next few days are some of the worst of Harry’s life. The healers are in and out of the room to perform healing spells that Harry doesn’t even recognize. The spells are powerful though, healers worn by the time they leave sometimes hours later. They’ve been able to heal some of Ron’s ailments, including healing a majority of his cuts, lung and legs. 

Harry thought it was hard waiting for Ron to come back from the unknown, but watching Ron in pain is worse than anything he could imagine. The potion’s effects don’t seem to lessen as the days go on and Ron spends most of his time sleeping, refusing any calming draughts or pain killer potions. 

The only saving grace is that Ron does wake every few hours. The Weasley clan have filtered in and out, each able to see their son, brother, brother-in-law, or uncle alive and awake. It takes a lot out of Ron and Harry can tell he is masking the amount of pain he’s in. He doesn’t want to worry his family any more than they already are so he strains a smile and squeezes Harry’s hand a little too tight. This is especially true when his nieces come for a visit, though Harry can tell the smile on his lips is more genuine than most days when the little ones come to say hi. 

It helps that Ron’s cuts have started to heal up enough to remove the majority of his bandages. The only one still covered is the goug on his cheek. Harry was graced to see that one and the raw flesh nearly had him sick to his stomach. The healers have decided that particular one was hit with some variation of the curse his hand was hit with though they don’t know why only that one particular cut and his hand would be hit with that curse and nothing else. 

They don’t know what curse it is yet either. They’ve had staff working around the click and curse breakers involved, but the priority has lessened as the days go on. It would seem the curse was only supposed to slow the healing process, but didn’t seem to be affecting Ron in any other way. The priority was the potion still in his system, something the healers have been trying to figure out. Potions normally flush out in a few days, but this was still going strong. 

The potion is nearly done -Hermione insisted on running a few more tests before the final stages in her worry- when the healers take Ron in for more tests. He’s coherent enough to tell the healers how he feels and just how much pain he’s in - “It’s a bloody ten. How many times do I have to tell you?” - which prompts them to start running tests again. 

Harry is told to wait in the room as they roll Ron away and it’s the first time they’ve been separated since Harry was forced to go into the office for his debriefing. He spends the majority of his time pacing the room, trying to go over why they decided Ron suddenly needed multiple brain scans. 

He thinks the worst.

The tests nearly run for two hours when they finally roll Ron back into the room. He looks worn and tired and instantly reaches for Harry’s hand when they lock his bed into place. The look on his face is grim and Harry wonders how much of the healers conversation he caught while he was being tested. 

Healer Miller clears her throat with a glance at her notes and Harry braces himself for the worst. “Auror Weasley’s legs are healing nicely. It seems the Skolo-Grow, though slower acting than normal, has done its job. This means Auror Weasley will be able to start walking by the end of day today.” That is definitely good news, but Harry knows that is only the start. 

“What about my hand?” Ron asks during the pause. He can barely lift his wrapped fingers off the bed, pain scrunching in features in his attempt. 

“It would seem the curse has slowed the healing process and completely negatited Skolo-Grow. We have some of our staff looking into this curse, but the pressing matter at hand is the extensive amount of pain that you’re in since we were able to set the bones properly even with the aid of magic. The hand will heal at the same pace a muggle injury heals and the curse does not seem to have any other effects nor has it spread to other parts of your body as we can see with your legs.”

Ron’s face is so tired, bags purpling his cheek in dark splotches, mixing in with the bruise that outlines the gash on his cheek. “But this is my wand hand?” 

Healer Miller looks a bit sad at the statement, but schools her features in moments. Harry doesn’t think someone that hasn’t been trained to see small changes like that would have even noticed. “As healers, we have minimal training in muggle medicine, but we have contacted a doctor and she has done a full assessment on your hand. She believes that you'll regain mobility, but with a lot of time and patients. She’s recommended what muggles refer to as physical therapy to aid in the healing process and increase mobility.” 

Harry watches the emotions play over Ron’s face as he processes this information. They haven’t even started on the illegal potions that are still ravishing his system and Ron already looks like he could cry at any moment. Harry holds his hand a bit tighter. 

“How long does this process take, Healer Miller?” Harry asks, drawing some of the attention away from Ron. He needs a moment, Harry knows it. He’s still in severe pain and now he’s being told that his wand hand will take ages to heal. 

“Auror Weasley should be able to start physical therapy in two to three months time depending on the healing process. There was extensive damage even to ligaments and tendons so the physical therapy process to regain mobility can take up to a year.”

“How much mobility will I regain? I haven’t bloody heard you say anything about being 100% percent again,” Ron asks, venom in his words. Harry isn’t surprised Ron caught that little clue in the healers words. He’s always been good with details like that.

“It would seem the muggle doctor believes he will only regain about 80% of his mobility, but we will be working to find a solution.”

“How the bloody hell am I going to go back to work? How the bloody hell will I hold my wand?” Ron shouts. The fact he’s thinking about going back to work already has Harry’s chest aching. He wants to simply never allow Ron to leave the house again. He knows it’s illogical. Ron was meant to be an auror and he wasn’t going to give it up. He was stronger than that and it scares the shit out of Harry. 

“We will do everything we can to get you back to 100 percent,” Healer Miller says, but they’re only empty words. She can’t promise that. 

“But-!”

“Healer Miller,” Harry starts, talking over Ron. They can’t have a fight about this now. There is still more news to come. “What about the pain?” The question has Ron snapping his mouth shut, like the news of his hand provided enough of a distraction to forget about the pain for only a moment. 

“Yes, we have run multiple tests and it would seem that the potion has caused damage to the pain center of the brain, triggering it at unexpected times and keeping him in a relatively constant state of pain. We believe this is due to the high volume he was given while in captivity. We do know that potions can alter the brain, something common in addiction, but we also know the brain can heal itself. We don’t know much about this illegal potion, but the hope is that we will be able to flush it out of his system, which would begin the healing process. It is common to have withdrawal symptoms when one comes off drugs even though they have only been taken for a short period of time and the pain could persist as his body is trying to heal itself.” 

It’s a lot for Harry to take it. He knows the basics of addiction, something they learned about in their training, but he hasn’t thought much about it since then. They often deal with the illegal potions dealers rather than the people affected in their area of work so he hasn’t seen the true effects of addiction. 

“But he’s going to get better?” Harry finds himself asking, watching as the information seems to sink in for Ron. Harry knows he’s taking it all in, strategizing. That’s just how his brain works. 

“He may have a strong reaction to pain in the future, but we believe he will be able to pull through this. We do want to remind you that we don’t know much about this potion at the moment so this is all theraizing.”

Harry will take it so long as there was hope that Ron would be okay. 

———————————

Harry has to excuse himself in the middle of Ron’s interview with Robards. It was bad enough Robards was already hounding Ron for a testimony only a few days after he was rescued but the potion would be ready in only one days time. Harry had fought and fought to have Robards put it off but Ron had insisted he’d just like to get it over with. 

That’s how Harry found himself sitting a room with Ron recounting his torture in as much detail as he could. It seems he was blacked out for a majority of the time he was held captive. Harry doesn’t even want to think about what they might have done in those moments. 

The problem is that even though he spent more time looking at his eyelids, the torture is the most grusom Harry has ever heard before. They’ve had to listen to counts of torture before. The death eaters still on the run tend to have fun picking up a person or two to play with. Harry’s been on a few of those cases but none can compare to this. 

Apparently these dark wizards were a particularly smart group. It was apparent when they found the potion that’s been circulating, mixing the ingredients in a way that makes them untraceable and nearly unable to detect the individual ingredients inside. The best of the best of the Auror department have been working on that for months and have slowly come up with an ingredient list. 

It seems they don’t only specialize in potions but ancient dark curses as well. Ron recounts moments of severe pain and searing burns. He recounts hunger and thirst amplified by spells they toyed with. He recounts a cursed knife that used to burn and keep the wound open for days and days as he passed out from agonizingly slow blood loss. 

Harry wishes he hadn’t insisted on staying in the room when Robards arrived. Ron is emotionless as he recounts the story, obviously trying to keep his emotions in check as he says they forced potions in him, shot it right into his bloodstream when he refused to open his mouth. Ron is so composed that it scares Harry even more. He’s completely detached himself from this story as he goes on like he’s talking about someone else completely. 

It’s what prompts Harry to excuse himself, putting up a silencing spell in the private bathroom and retching up the little bit of lunch he managed to get down today. The thought that Ron went through all that has Harry himself reeling, spiraling as the guilt sets in. He should have found Ron sooner. He should have known Ron was in danger sooner. This would have never happened if they hadn’t been separated as a team. 

It takes Harry a few minutes to compose himself again before he can open the door and face Robards. Harry can tell it’s actually affecting their boss, normally one not to show emotions in situations like this, but clearly feeling the effects of knowing one of his coworkers was succumbed to this torture. 

Robards is getting up when Harry finally pushes the door open. He looks grim, an apology leaving his lips seemingly without his conscious knowledge. Ron gives him a weak smile, eyes already dropping closed. Harry knows this is the longest that he’s been awake yet. 

“Auror Potter, a word,” Robards instructs. Harry glances at Ron, checking in, and gets a nod. He doesn’t particularly want to leave, not after Ron just recounted his whole capture and looks like he might fall apparent at any moment. 

It’s then Harry realizes the emotionless tone had been for their benefit. It was the only way Ron could get through this without breaking into pieces. He had to detach himself from the story but Harry can tell it’s catching up. He can see how haunted his eyes look, sagging back in the bed now and looking way beyond his years. 

“I’ll be right back,” Harry insists, grazing his hand over Ron’s before he follows Robards into the hallway. Harry’s never seen so many emotions playing over his bosses features. The normally stoic man looks resigned, sadness playing at the corner of his eyes as they make contact with Harry’s. 

“I have Auror Bones on the case. O’Brian will be transcribing this little interview. I don’t see how we won’t land all of them in jail. If Auror Weasley can identify them as his captors, the information he just told us should put them away for life.” The tone is all business but Harry can see that Robards is upset by Ron’s current state. 

“What about Ron? I assume you’ve been updated,” Harry asks, because he’s sure Ron will be asking when he can go back to work. 

“I hope Auror Weasley will be able to return to us at 100 percent. We always have space for him. The talent he shows strategically is invaluable even if he can’t go back in the field. We will leave that up to the experts though. The healers can’t talk to me about Ron’s health but I assume you’ll keep me updated. I’ll need the healer's written consent to allow Ron back to work.” 

Harry nods in understanding, glancing back into the room when he hears a groan on the other side. Ron goes through periods that are more painful than others and it would seem this is one of the more painful moments. 

“What about me, sir?” Robards raises an eyebrows in question. “Ron will need assistance for the next few months,” Harry elaborates. 

“If your wish is to take a sabbatical from work, I can have the paperwork sent by owl. If you’d like to discuss other options, we can set up a meeting. I’d like to keep at least one of my best on staff and at the moment it can’t be Auror Weasley. I would be willing to limit field work.”

“Ah,” Harry doesn’t really know what he wants to do yet. He had been thinking about taking time off but if he can work less hours and stay out of the field that could work. He would only need a few weeks off to settle Ron into the new routine. “I’ll let you know, sir.”

“I look forward to your owl,” Robards nods. “Wish Auror Weasley my best. I have to get back to the office.” 

Harry nods, bidding his boss goodbye before he pushes the door open. Ron is already asleep. He looks like he’s tried to curl up a bit, but the angle is awkward as he has trouble lying on his side still. It would seem some spots are still more tender than others. 

The twitch catches Harry’s attention, eyebrows furrowing. The twitch turns into a full body shiver, a groan leaving his lips at the same time. “Stop,” Ron mutters, curling into his side. The injured hand moves and Ron whines in pain, all of the sudden thrashing his arm across the bed until it comes into contact with the post on the side, meant to keep him in the bed and not injure him. “Please, stop.”

Yeah, that’s definitely a nightmare. Harry still succumbs to them himself, still plagued by the war even years later. Ron only has them once in a blue moon and usually only around the anniversary or Fred’s birthday. Harry knows this will only be the start. This torture can only play with your mind and Harry foresees many sleepless nights ahead. 

“Ron,” Harry calls. He places a gentle hand on his shoulder but Ron flinches from the touch in his sleep. The cut on his stomach, one hit with the same curse as his cheek but not nearly as gagged and open, seems to be bleeding now, like he ripped open the newly healed skin. 

“Ron, wake up,” he tries again. He wants to reach out, hold Ron in his arms. He’s barely touched more than his hand in months and Harry craves to have Ron in his arms again. It may be a longer journey there than he even realized. 

The words don’t work and Ron groans again, muttering something Harry can’t make out. He’s not thrashing now, which is a plus. “Ron!” Harry tries louder. “Ron! Wake up!” 

The words have him shooting out of bed and Harry immediately recognizes that face. He grabs for the nearest bucket and sticks it in Ron’s lap, watching as he empties the contents of his stomach. 

“Bloody hell,” Ron groans as he leans back, wiping at his mouth. Harry places the bucket aside and digs around for his wand. He vanishes the vomit and summons a tissue to wipe at Ron’s mouth. “I feel like shit.” 

“It’s okay, Ron. We’ll get through this,” Harry says, but Ron is already asleep. 

———————————

The potion works. Harry could jump for joy at the fact they can’t find any more of that horrid potion in Ron after he takes the one Hermione so carefully researched and monitored. It’s a big step in the right direction even though Ron is still clearly in pain. 

That doesn't stop Healer Miller from giving the go ahead to go home. Ron looks dreamy when she says that, voice soft as he repeats the word home. It’s been months since he’s been there and Harry can’t imagine how nice it will be to be in his own house with his bed without all the hustle and bustle of the hospital. Harry knows that he can’t wait. 

They wait two days after the potion for observation before Ron is finally swinging his legs over the side of the bed so he can head home with Harry. Harry helps him into a pair of sweatpants -he’s skinnier now and they hang low on his hips - and a soft blue t-shirt. “Am I really going home?” Ron asks when Harry has brushed some of the wrinkles from his shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m taking you home,” Harry smiles, startled when Ron leans forward to connect their lips. It’s the first time they’ve properly kissed since that fateful day Ron was sent on the mission. Harry has kissed him on the cheek a few times, and had Ron’s hand pressed to his lips more often than not, but this is the first kiss they’ve shared on the lips and Harry nearly melts into Ron. 

It doesn’t last long as Ron sways a bit, nearly tumbling back into the bed. Harry is quick to catch his arm, frowning at the way Ron flinches at the touch. It isn’t the first time he’s flinched away from Harry and he’s sure it won’t be the last. 

“Are you okay?” Harry asks. He watches as Ron glances at his hand, visibly relaxing as he seems to come to the realization that it’s only Harry touching him. 

“Yeah,” Ron breathes and Harry is startled when he realizes that Ron is out of breath. It does make sense though. Ron could barely walk down the hall without losing his breath. He had a long way to go before he was fit enough to return to work. “I’m just ready to go home.”

Harry smiles, brushing some of Ron’s hair from his face. It reveals the large gash on his cheek, edges jagged and covering most of his cheek. The healer provided cream to help the healing process but believes the gash will scar due to the curse. 

“Are you in pain?” Harry asks even though he knows the answer. Ron still shakes, like the pain is literally rippling through his body. “Are you good to travel?”

Ron sighs at his words, moving to brush his good fingers across Harry’s cheek. “I just want to go home,” Ron deflects, but Harry can see the way his eyes reflect how much he aches. He’s starting to curl up a bit, like he could just collapse at any moment. The trip back home was going to take all his energy. 

“Let’s head out then.” Harry tries a smile that Ron barely returns, casted hand hugged to his chest. Harry slips his arm around Ron’s waist, takes as much weight as Ron will allow as they walk out of the room. 

The apparition point is luckily close and Ron leans heavily against Harry as he seems to prepare himself for the sudden jolt. Harry gives him a little warning, allowing Ron to close his eyes as they finally disappear from St. Mungo’s. 

The house smells like fresh cookies, a batch sitting on the counter with a note from Mrs. Weasley wishing them well. It informs the two men that she will be over later in the day with dinner. 

Harry had been right in assuming the apparition would take all of Ron’s energy. The cookies - normally half gone by now - don’t even draw his attention as he sags against Harry. Harry adjusts him a bit, allowing Ron’s head to lull against the top of his as he heads in the direction of their room. 

“I’ve got you,” Harry assures, pushing the bedroom door open. It would seem they have a fresh pair of sheets and Mrs. Wealsey has gone about tidying up the room. Harry normally wouldn’t be thankful to have Mrs. Weasley come to their house unannounced, but the fresh sheets are still warm from her warming charm and Ron slips under the covers easily, a yawn leaving his lips. 

Harry tugs the sheet up to Ron’s chin, brushing a few strands of hair from his face before he heads back toward the door. The hand around his wrist stops him, careful not to yank too hard when he realizes those digits are attempting to stop him. 

“Please stay,” Ron pleads, eyes tired and sad. 

“Of course,” Harry says, voice soft and chest aching. Ron allows him to walk around the bed, tugging off his jeans and pulling on a clean t-shirt before he slips under the covers. Ron is quick to curl up against him, hand resting gingerly on Harry’s chest. It means he can’t really move in fear of jarring his injured hand, but he doesn’t care much. It’s the first time he’s really gotten to hold Ron in months. “I love you,” he breaths, finding himself slipping into sleep. 

“I love you too,” Ron repeats and they both drift off, peaceful for the first time in months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make my heart happy! Hit me up! The comments on the previous chapter convinced me to add two more chapters so you never know what comments will get you. (Hint: a prequel?)
> 
> hit me up on [tumblr](https://playitaagain.tumblr.com/). I'm taking requests!


	3. lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron is pulling away from Harry as the trial gets closer and closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was harder to write than I thought it would be.

Ron shifts uncomfortably, scratching at the skin just above the bandages on his arm. The previously white material has dirtied with wear, strings starting to fray along the edges. There is a particularly long one that Ron’s tucked into the top edge of the brace, making it look like it might fall off at any moment. 

The large tea stain across the material stands out, reminding Harry how hard this is going to be. Ron had insisted after only two days at home that he could do it himself only for Harry to find him on the floor, holding his broken hand against his chest. The tea had burned his skin and Harry had to clean up the wrap and dry it while making sure to keep Ron’s arm stable while applying burn cream. It had been a complete disaster that led to Ron spending the rest of the day in bed.

Ron is picking at the soft material now, a habit he’s seemed to form after only a few days with it. The waiting room is quiet and Harry’s thankful for that. Ron seems to be more sensitive to loud noise after his capture and he tends to flinch at even the smallest of sounds now. 

Ron jumps when the door opens. They’re in the private auror quarters, a precaution to keep Ron out of the Prophet until the case can blow over. It’s imperative he stays out of the public eye just in case there is a straggling dark wizard that may come after him. Harry even upped security in their small cottage rather than Ron going to a safe house. 

“Mr. Weasley, we can see you now,” Healer Miller announces, a kind smile on her lips. They’ve called in a muggle doctor to aid with the case, a squib who Doctor Miller has already utilized while Ron was in St. Mungo’s. 

Harry can hear Ron let out a breath, flinching in pain when he goes to use his bad hand to push himself up. Harry is quick to aid, tucking his arm under Ron’s and taking a bit of weight so it’s easier for Ron to get up. He already looks winded and Harry knows that the apparition really took it out of him. He can barely walk from the bedroom to the kitchen in this state and he doesn't seem to be improving yet. Harry is hoping a proper cast will help. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Harry asks. They’ve already talked a bit about Harry joining, but he wants to make sure Ron’s still on the same page. Ron can barely stand by himself at this point and Harry’s worried he won’t get all the information if he goes in by himself. 

“Yeah,” Ron answers, allowing Harry to lead him into the room. Ron instantly tenses as they step inside, blue eyes darting around. It’s the same room he spent days in and out of consciousness. There is no way Ron was going to settle down enough to get much information from the doctors. 

“Hello, Mr. Weasley.” This one is the doctor, standing in a white lab coat next to the bed. She reaches her hand out for Ron to shake. “I’m Dr. White. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Dr. White seems to realize her mistake when Ron glances at his right hand, held firmly against his chest in his attempt not to disturb his arm. Harry knows it’s been causing him a lot of pain the last few days. Dr. White gives him an apologetic smile as Ron introduces himself. “Please call me Ron.” Dr. White nods at the request turning her attention to Harry. 

“I’m Harry,” he introduces, taking her outstretched hand after a bit of maneuvering to keep Ron steady. She graces him with a kind smile, gentle as she reaches forward to hook her arm under Ron’s. 

Ron is having none of that though, nearly tumbling into Harry as he finches away at the sudden touch. He looks guilty the second he realizes his actions, pink dusting his cheeks, but Dr. White doesn’t even mention it as she steps away, giving Ron a kind smile as she gestures toward the bed. 

It’s a bit high and Ron struggles to get up. Harry does everything he can to hoist Ron up without drawing too much attention. It isn’t for the doctor’s sake, but Ron’s, who seems disappointed in his own inability to even sit on a high bed. 

Once Ron’s seated, a tense silence slips over the room until Dr. White clears her throat, stepping forward to start the conversation. “Well, the first thing we are going to do is an x-ray. I want to make sure the bones have set properly before I put a cast on your hand,” she explains.

“Cast?” Ron asks, glancing at Harry with worry. The most Ron has ever had to deal with in terms of broken bone was his arm or leg wrapped for a few days while it healed with the aid of magic. He’s never had anything so constricting from what Harry knows, which makes sense because normally broken bones heal up within a few days with magic. 

“Yes, muggles set bones using plaster so they can heal properly. You’ll have the cast on for two months and then we’ll get you a removable cast if everything is healing properly. This is when you’ll start physical therapy. The removable cast will stabilize your hand when you aren’t doing physical therapy and allow you to take it off in order to start working on your mobility,” Dr. White explains. 

Ron looks a bit worried at the prospect, but nods, holding out his arm when Healer Miller indicates for him to do so. It only takes a few muttered words before the room is filled with a 3 dimensional x-ray of Ron’s arm simply hovering in the air. Dr. White seems a bit awe struck as she steps into the image, examining the bones around Ron’s hand and wrist. 

“I’m noticing a bit more damage to his wrist than indicated,” Dr. White explains, pointing to the clearly broken bone. She moves up his hand, frown pulling down her lips. “I’ll need to reset this bone as well as this bone so his fingers will heal properly. It would seem the other bones have set correctly.” 

“How do you reset a bone?” Ron asks, leaning against Harry. Harry doesn’t know how much longer he’ll make it. He looks like he could collapse at any moment. 

“It doesn’t look like there has been much healing the last few days so I should be able to put them back in place without much of a problem. I’m simply going to put pressure on your finger until it goes back into the proper place,” Dr. White answers, turning her attention to Healer Miller. “Is this live? Will I be able to see the bones moving?”

“I’ll be able to recast the spell when you finish, but it won’t update without doing the spell a second time,” Healer Miller explains.

“That’s fine,” Dr. White nods, stepping forward. Ron eyes her wearily, giving her a nod at her look for permission. She reaches out slowly, deliberate in her actions before she takes Ron’s hand into her own. 

She’s gentle as she takes the dirty wrapping off, allowing the bandage to fall to the ground. Harry can see the pain flashing across Ron’s features, nose scrunching and teeth grinding together. “Would you like something for the pain?” she asks.

“No,” Ron is quick to answer. She nods, manipulating his fingers and wrist. Harry can see the liquid gathering in the corner of Ron’s eyes, biting into his bottom lip in his attempt to keep the tears at bay. Harry laces his free hand with Ron’s, allowing the other to hold as tight as needed as Dr. White manipulates his hand until she’s satisfied. Healer Miller casts another spell upon Dr. White’s request and she steps back to look at the bones. 

Harry can actually see the change in positions, Ron’s pointer and ring fingers now straight. Dr. White seems satisfied with her work, indicating for Healer Miller to drop the spell. 

“I’m going to put a cast on now. I’ve been working with Healer Miller to utilize magic in setting the cast so it should be a quick process.” Ron nods at the words, now leaning completely against Harry as Dr. White holds his hand. 

Harry watches in fascination as Healer Miller mutters a spell under her breathe as Dr. White wraps plaster around Ron’s hand and up his arm. The plaster easily molds to Ron’s skin with the aid of the spell and Harry is once again amazed by the use of magic. 

“Am I able to go now?” Ron asks when the cast is complete. Dr. White is helping Ron pull a sling over his head and adjusting his cast to sit properly within the material. 

“I just wanted to discuss a few more things,” Dr. White explains. Ron seems a bit dejected, but nods. Harry makes sure to pay particularly close attention as Dr. White explains how to care for the cast as well as information about the break and a follow up appointment. Ron clearly isn’t listening so Harry’s happy he stayed as he absorbed all the information Dr. White and Healer Miller supply. 

It’s thankfully only another fifteen minutes before the pair are allowed to leave. The receptionist already has an appointment card waiting for them when they step out of the room, Ron leaning heavily against Harry as they exit. 

Harry thanks the receptions as he walks by, accepting the offered appointed card. Harry simply shoves it into his pocket without looking, knowing they’ll be able to make it no matter when it is. 

The apparition point is a struggle as Harry hoists Ron against his side, careful not to move his arm too much. Ron is nearly curled into himself from pain, holding onto Harry with his free arm. Harry gives him a warning before they diapperate, appearing in their living room. 

“Did you want to eat something before you head to bed?” Harry asks, Ron’s face now pressed into his neck. He has his arms circled around him, careful of his cast. 

“No, just sleep,” he mutters, allowing Harry to lead him to the bedroom. This time Ron doesn’t ask him to stay. Instead, he curls up in a ball away from Harry, cradling his arm against his chest. Harry can hear the quiet sniffling that indicates Ron is finally allowing the tears to fall. 

———————————

The department makes aurors see a mind healer after every high profile case. The number of sessions is determined by the mind healer and Ron was officially going indefinitely. It wasn’t unusual for injured aurors to go back for a few weeks, but this is the longest Harry’s ever heard. 

It would seem his first session didn’t go well either. Harry was thankful the mind healer wasn’t located near the department so it was easy to slip Ron in and out without running into anyone. Ron wasn’t ready to see their coworkers and Harry didn’t really blame him. They’d be all over him asking him how he’s doing when it’s pretty clear he isn’t doing well. 

Ron doesn’t hang around when they arrive home. He touches Harry for the least amount of time possible, shaking off the arm Harry attempts to slip around his waist like usual. Harry ends up placing a hand on Ron’s arm, frown tugging down his lips as he gives Ron a warning. They’ve barely touched the floor of their living room before Ron shakes his arm off and uses the furniture to get him to the bedroom. 

Harry flinches when he hears something fall, wrapping his arms around his waist when a particularly loud scream echoes in the small house. This time something collides with the wall on purpose. The glass shatters and Harry sucks in a breath when Ron’s anger fades into gut wrenching sobs. 

Harry takes in a deep breath, bracing himself as he walks toward their bedroom. He allows himself another moment, squeezing his eyes shut before he pushes the door open. 

Ron is a wreck. 

He has managed to ball himself into the furthest corner from Harry, knees drawn to his chest and hands pressing his face into his legs. He’s shaking, shoulders stuttering with each breath. There is blood dripping from his good hand, his bad hand sticking out at an awkward angle in his attempt to wrap it around his knees. 

Harry wants to rush over, wrap him in a hug and protect him from the world. This was only the beginning of a long journey and Ron was already shutting him out, running away from the comfort and support Harry wanted to supply. Ron wasn’t ready for that comfort. He wasn’t ready to face Harry yet and Harry wasn’t going to push him to do something he wasn’t ready for. Instead, his first priority is the shattered glass which he mends with a flick of his wand, watching as it mends together, the picture now hanging back on the wall like nothing happened and the glass vase back together. Harry wishes it was that simple. 

He steps forward tentatively, tucking his wand away until Ron allows him to heal the small cut on his hand. The floor creaks under his feet and Ron tenses at the sound, blue eyes peeking out from behind his knees. They’re darker than before, bloodshot and sad. 

“Hey,” Harry whispers, crouching in front of Ron. The other doesn’t grace him with an answer, simply stares at him like he’s staring right through him. “I’m going to heal your hand, okay?” The only indication that Ron heard him is the small twitch in his bleeding hand. 

Harry reaches out tentatively, gentle as he takes Ron’s hand in his own. Ron doesn’t fight him, simply lets him pull his hand away. The basic healing spell is simple, one of the first they learn in training, and with a small flick of his wand the skin is sowing itself together. There’s still blood though and Harry takes the corner of his own shirt and rubs it over Ron’s knuckles. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” Harry says, gentle as he tucks an arm under Ron’s good one. It takes all of his strength to pull Ron off the ground. He’s basically dead weight, leaning against Harry for support. The side of the bed Ron is closest too is normally Harry’s side, but he places Ron there gently anyway.

Harry goes about pulling off his shoes and socks, tossing them aside to pick up later. Ron’s shirt is next and it takes a bit of maneuvering to pull it over his head, grabbing him a clean pajama shirt and slipping that on. The trousers pose a more difficult problem and he ends up helping Ron lie down on the bed, tugging the legs awkwardly. It takes a bit of work, but eventually he gets the pants over Ron’s hips and he’s able to tug them down. He replaces them with a soft pair of pajama pants, again struggling at Ron’s hips.

Ron looks completely worn when Harry pulls the covers over him, tucking them around his chin. That seems to spur Ron on a bit as he curls up on his side, tugging Harry’s pillow tight against his face and pressing his nose into the soft fabric. 

“Do you need anything?” Harry asks, brushing some hair from his face. It’s a bit short right now as his captures seemed to have hacked off some of the strands. Harry knows it frustrates him, but it still sits nicely at about chin length. It’s easier not to freak out about the hair for Harry since hair will grow back, but Ron is simply seeing it as another thing they took from him. 

“Please just leave me alone for a while,” Ron mutters, sniffling. He rubs the blanket against his nose and Harry notes to clean the sheets whenever Ron gets up. Harry hates the  _ if  _ that crosses his mind at the prospect of Ron getting up. He couldn’t have those kinds of negative thoughts. Ron was already struggling and he didn’t need that from Harry. 

“Okay,” Harry struggles to keep his voice even as he allows his hand to brush against Ron’s cheek. The other tenses at the touch and Harry pulls it away quickly. “I love you.”

Ron simply hums in answer, mind already somewhere else. 

Harry goes to the bathroom, places a silencing charm and cries. 

———————————

The owl flutters through the window, landing elegantly on the sill. Ron eyes the creature with a frown, startling when it hoots at him in indignation. The official owl sticks its leg out, eyeing Ron before she ruffles her feathers. 

Ron scoots forward in his chair, reaching for the note attached to the owl’s leg. Harry grabs the owl treats as the note slips away, holding his hand out for the owl to grab the treat before she flutters her wings and heads out the window. 

“Oh,” Ron says, disappointment clear in his voice. Harry watches emotions flash across his pale features until his face seems to harden with defeat. It’s an emotion that’s clouded his features for a few days now, ever since that first session with his mind healer. It's been worrying Harry more and more as the days pass. 

“What is it?” Harry asks, sitting across from Ron. He wants to reach out, take his hand, but Ron is becoming more and more distant as the days pass. The comfort his arms provided those first few days seems to have worn off and Ron’s pulling away from him suddenly and shrugging him off. 

“It looks like they’ve set a date. They want me to testify,” Ron explains. Harry watches as he tries to hold himself together, watches as his features crack until they break completely. 

Ron’s never been one to make himself small. Yes, he’s slouched so he doesn’t stand out in a crowd because he’s so tall. He’s shrunk into himself in embarrassment, with a pretty pink blush tinting his ears. This was different though. This was Ron shrinking back in fear and pain. This was Ron, strong and confident Ron, who seems to have lost everything he gained after Auror training, the success of complete cases and a well deserved promotion that solidified he was everything Harry ever thought he was. 

“How are you?” Harry asks because he doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn’t know how to make this better. He wants to be there for Ron, but he keeps pushing him away. It’s leaving Harry frustrated with both himself and Ron, but he doesn’t dare say anything, not when Ron is working so hard to even keep himself together on a regular basis. 

“How did they get a date so fast? These usually take months to secure.” Ron ignores his question, but he’s been doing that a lot lately. The answer is always fine or the question is brushed aside. It simply solidifies that he’s not fine.

“They started the process right after you went under. Auror Davis basically started the process when he woke up,” Harry explains. He hates that he’s resentful, because Auror Davis slept this off for a few days but was otherwise unscathed. He returned to work only two weeks after he had woken up with barely a scar to show for his work. 

“Shit,” Ron mutters, allowing the now crinkled paper to fall from his fingers. The breakfast in front of him is forgotten, barely a bit taken, as Ron pushes the chair out carefully when his good arm. He struggles to stand, wobbling a bit, unsteady on his feet. Harry moves to help, but one glare from Ron has him stopping in his tracks, a frown tugging down his lips as Ron uses the wall to walk to their bedroom. 

He doesn’t know what to do. Ron’s struggling down the hall, shoulder pressed to the wall in his attempt to hold himself up. Harry knows this is only partly due to his injuries. The other half is his lack of sleep. The nightmares seem to plague him each night, pulling him from sleep only an hour or two after he’s finally drifted off. They always startle him awake and he doesn’t let Harry do much else than attempt to breathe with him.

These nightmares are so much worse than the war. Ron had spent many sleepless nights seeing Fred’s dead body and watching Harry walk off to his own death. There were moments his brain would kill his whole family, but Ron had always been able to ground himself after those dreams. He’d allow Harry to hold him, reassure him and Ron would do the same for Harry.

This was different though. The reminders of his time tortured are still written all over his body. He can barely use his hand, weak to even push himself up from a lying position in bed. He has periods that he can’t even walk from the pain overstimulating his body. The scar on his cheek is so sensitive Ron can’t even lie with his face pressed to the pillow. The imagines of that dreadful month haunt him both awake and asleep and he won’t share with Harry. The only time he’s talked about it was when Robards took his statement while he was still in the hospital. 

Harry is so lost in thought that Ron has suddenly appeared in front of him again. He’s dressed now in a comfortable pair of trousers and a cozy jumper, arm held in place by the sling over his shoulder. He looks tired, even more so than he did at breakfast and Harry realizes he probably should have followed so he could have helped if Ron needed it. It would seem just getting dressed took a lot out of him. 

“I have to go to the mind healer,” Ron informs. He doesn’t look happy about it at all, but Harry knows he won’t cope out because he wants to go back to work and this was a big part of doing just that. They’d never let him back in the office without the mind healers approval. 

“Yeah-” Harry is a terrible person. He forgot Ron had an appointment today. They usually only have one appointment a week, but Ron’s been upped to two appointments after the last appointment seemed to trigger him. Plus, Ron’s torture was some of the worst the department has ever seen so it isn’t a surprise he has to go twice a week. “Let me just get dressed.”

Ron still isn’t able to apparate himself and there was a chance the floo system could worsen his injured arm if he landed wrong without the aid of someone else. Harry could tell Ron was getting annoyed that he had to rely on Harry for such a basic thing as transportation, but there was nothing that could be done. 

The look on Ron’s face is seeping with anger and annoyance when he walks back in the room. Harry knows he is only trying to mask the mental and physical pain he’s feeling. It was definitely going to be another sleepless night for them both. 

———————————

Ron wimpers next to him, a groan leaving his lips. He curls into himself, face scrunched in pain just before he shoots up in bed. It takes everything in Harry not to reach out, to pull him close and comfort him. The last time he did that Ron had practically shoved him off the bed, still reeling from the nightmare as he tried to bring himself back to the present. 

“I can’t do it,” Ron breaths, clenching the fabric against his chest. He’s breathing erratically as he looks around the room frantically, like he’s looking for an escape. “I can’t do it. I can’t do it.” The covers are kicked aside, sweat glistening in the moonlight as Ron nearly stumbles off the bed in his haste to escape something Harry can’t even see.

“Ron,” he tries, climbing across the bed. He wants to reach out, but Ron is looking at him like he’s not in their bedroom. Harry suspects that he isn’t. Harry remembers the days it used to take him ages to come out of his nightmares even with his eyes open. They used to play out in front of him, curling in the darkness of the room. 

“I’m not going. I can’t do it,” Ron repeats, blue eyes wild as he sinks to the floor. The cast is held tightly to his chest, his good hand now curled into his red locks. “I can’t see them.” 

The trial. He was talking about the trail. He wasn’t ready to face these dark wizards yet, barely even a week out of the hospital, barely even two weeks out of the torutre that he probably just rehashed in his session with the mind healer today. 

“Ron,” Harry calls, finally getting the attention of those blue eyes. They’re swirling with pain and Harry aches to help. “Can you breathe with me?” He wants to reassure Ron. He wants to tell him everything will be okay. He wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to testify. It would all be a lie though. Ron had to testify to put the dark wizards away and Harry doesn’t know when he will be okay. He knows he will. Ron is strong. He is going to get through this, but Harry doesn’t know when. 

Ron nods frantically, hand shaking as he reaches forward to wrap it around Harry’s outstretched one. Harry moves slowly, deliberate as he sits on the floor across from Ron, bringing Ron’s offered hand to his chest as he attempts to keep his own breathing under control. 

They stay like that for a long time. Harry doesn’t dare break the silence that has fallen over the two of them, listening instead to Ron’s breath steadying. There is still this shake on his exhale, this little stutter, but he closes his eyes and works on matching Harry breath for breath. 

“I don’t know if I can do it,” Ron whispers into the darkness, breaking the silence that has fallen between them. There is turmoil in his blue eyes when he finally opens them, meeting Harry’s green with more worry and pain that Harry has ever seen. “I don’t think I can face them.” 

“Ron-” Harry starts. He wants to tell Ron how strong he is. He wants to tell Ron that he can do anything. This torture has torn away all of Ron’s confience, ripped it away piece by piece in only a month when it took years for Ron to build it. 

“I’m going to sleep on the couch,” Ron announces, cutting Harry off. He tugs his hand back and Harry is so shocked by the sudden change that he simply sits there blinking as Ron climbs off the ground painfully. Ron was pulling away slowly but surely and Harry couldn’t do a thing about it. 

“But Ron-?” Harry tries, finally pulling himself out of his stupor when Ron nearly trips over the end of the bed. He catches himself before he can stumble to the ground, only sparing a glance over his shoulder at Harry. 

“I don’t want to wake you. You should get some sleep,” Ron informs, using the door frame to hold himself up before he slips out the door. Harry watches in shock as he goes. 

He doesn’t know what to do. Harry has never been good at comfort and reassurance. That was always Ron’s forte. He knew exactly what to do when Harry was in a mood. He knew how to handle his nightmares. He knew how to help Harry unwind after a long and tiring mission. He knew exactly what to say. 

Harry has no idea what to do.

Ron’s always been satisfied with a hug. He’s always melted in Harry’s arms as Harry runs his fingers through his hair. Harry would mutter a soft  _ I love you _ and Ron would curl up against him and be better the next morning, that lopsided smile back at full force. Harry would do anything for that smile right now. He’d do anything for Ron to even allow him to touch him. 

“Shit,” Harry mutters, rubbing at his tired eyes. He’s barely been able to sleep. Ron’s restless most nights and Harry ends up staring at the ceiling alongside Ron, suffering silently with him because that’s all he can do, that’s all Ron will allow him to do. 

“I don’t know what to do.” The darkness of the room allows him to fall into his own thoughts, a shiver running down his spin. He tugs at the blanket on the bed, a small smile pulling up his lips at Mrs. Weasley’s housing warming present.

And suddenly Harry knows what he needs to do. 

With a sigh, he pushes himself off the ground. The wood creaks under his feet as he drapes the blanket over his arm so it doesn’t drag on the floor. The room is dark when he enters, Ron’s feet sticking off the end of their couch. He’s much too tall to sleep comfortably, but Harry doesn’t want to push. 

Instead he spreads out the blanket, watching as it gently covers Ron’s shaking form. Unlike the couch, the blanket is long enough to cover Ron’s shoulders and his feet, something that Mrs. Weasley made sure off. Ron’s fingers instantly wrap around the soft material, blue eyes sad when they look up at Harry’s. 

“I’m here when you’re ready,” Harry assures. He wants to reach out, brush the hair from Ron’s face. He gives Ron a soft smile instead, earning himself a small nod in thanks before Ron closes his eyes in an attempt to sleep again. 

Harry doesn’t sleep that night. The bed is too empty and it reminds him of those long nights waiting for even the smallest indication that Ron was alive and well only to find out he was alive, but he wasn’t well. 

———————————

Ron dresses up for the first time in three weeks. The trousers hang low on his hips, weight loss still prominent as Ron pulls himself away from Harry more and more, succumbing to the confines of his mind. The blue button down shirt matches his eyes. It’s one of Harry’s favorite shirts but he knows Ron isn’t wearing it because of him like he normally does. He has on his official Auror robes, the first time he’s worn them in months. 

“Let’s go,” Ron mutters, holding his hand out for Harry. He won’t let Harry hold him close, wrap his arm around his waist even to apparate. He’s only holding Harry’s hand out of necessity now and the second they appear at the ministry’s apparition point (only available as an exception when someone can’t floo) Ron’s hand is out of his. 

Harry is thankful the apparition point isn’t far from the Auror department, following along a little behind Ron. He’s easier to watch that way, to keep any eye on since Ron’s still unsteady on his feet. He can barely make it around the house in the best of days and though Robards had offered a home visit to discuss the case, Ron had insisted he could come in. Harry is sure Robards would have disagreed if he had actually seen Ron’s state but he was simply going off Ron’s word. 

Harry knows Ron is dreading the visit even if he had insisted on coming. He isn’t ready for the questions and comments from their coworkers. He isn’t ready for the hustle and bustle of the office. He isn’t ready for the heavy feeling that comes with the office, the Auror department holding a certain strain that comes with catching dark wizards day in and day out. 

He has to pause at the door and catch his breath. He looks tired, hunched over as he leans against the wall. He has his blue eyes closed and Harry wonders if he’s preparing himself to walk through that door mentally. He knows that Ron’s been doing some new exercises to help with his anxiety and trauma just from observing Ron and it seems he’s utilizing those tools now. Harry can’t even imagine how much anxiety Ron is feeling at the moment. It’s been months since he’s been in the office and last time he was at the height of his career and now he could barely walk to the office from the apparition point. 

“Ron!” It’s like Auror O’Brian knew they were outside. “How are ya? I wanted ta visit but the list was restricted.” 

Harry watches as Ron takes in a deep breath through clenched teeth before he practically transforms in front of Harry’s eyes. He’s suddenly standing tall, a small smile pulling up his lips. To anyone else, he’d look like his normal self, maybe a bit more worn and tired, but Harry can see the storm in his blue eyes, the haunting undertone that makes Harry’s chest ache. 

Ron may be pulling away from him but Harry was also the only person he trusted to see him in pain, both physical and mental. 

“O’Brian!” Ron flinches when O’Brian’s hand reaches forward to shake Ron’s. O’Brian doesn’t seem to notice as Ron instantly straightens himself and takes his offered hand with his good one, which leads to an awkward handshake. “Been getting into trouble without me?” 

Harry’s chest aches as he watches the two interact, remembering a time when Ron wasn’t curled up in the corner of the bedroom or huddled under the covers lost in his own memories. It was a time when Ron’s trauma was far away, long overcome since the war. It was a time when his interactions weren’t fake and forced, when Ron was genuinely happy and looked forward to going into the office to chat with coworkers. 

The conversation is short lived. Ron excuses himself after O’Brian tells him about his work with Beth - Harry’s partner before he took some time off - in his attempt to avoid the  _ how are you _ that's coming. O’Brian seems disappointed. Harry knows he’s probably been looking forward to Ron’s return. O'Brian made it pretty clear he looked up to Ron when he first started in the department and that hasn’t changed. It doesn’t help that they’re friends now because of their work partnership. 

There is a hush that falls over the office when Ron finally steps inside. He looks tired again, like the conversation with O’Brian really took it out of him. The effect is clear as he walks through the office, sending coworkers small smiles at their greetings and well wishes. He doesn’t linger though, brushing off each comment until he gets to Robards office, the furthest from the door. 

“I’ll be in our office if you need me,” Harry informs even though he knows Ron won’t need him. He made it very clear Harry wasn’t to be in the room when he went to talk to Robards and Harry wasn’t going to fight him on it. Ron needed time to heal and process and he’d let Harry in at some point. 

Ron nods before he disappears into Robards office and Harry hurries off to his own. It’s covered in a thin layer of dust which Harry banishes with a flick of his wand. There is a small pile of paperwork on his desk, stuff that’s gotten lost in his time away from the office that doesn’t seem to be too pressing if he hasn’t been owled about it yet. 

He goes about doing the paperwork, door firmly closed in his indication to the office that he doesn’t want to be disturbed. It’s a very clear message, one he used to use when he was here full time. The only time the door was ever opened fully was when Ron was around, inviting their coworkers in for a chat, easily distracted. The memories are fond ones. 

Harry works hard not to pay attention to the time so he’s a bit startled when there's a knock at the door nearly an hour later. Harry blinks a few times, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to bring him back before he opens the door. 

Robards looks resigned on the other side, if a little green in the face. Harry’s stomach churns at the thought, wondering what details Ron’s shared that could make their hard boss look like he might throw up. Harry’s never seen Robards falter even in the most gruesome of cases. 

“A word?” He asks, stepping in without an invitation. He closes the door behind him, a frown on his lips. “Have you talked to Auror Weasley about his time undercover?” It’s implied that this time includes the subsequent capture and torture that went along with his case. 

“Not at length,” Harry answers honestly. “The most I know is from his statement at the hospital.”

Robards hums in thought, glancing around the room for a moment, like he’s contemplating his next move. Harry’s never seen him like this before and it makes him nervous. “It would seem he wasn’t all that revealing at his interview. I don’t believe he will be returning to work for some time.” Harry has to stop the bile that climbs up his throat, threatening to spill from his lips. It had taken all of Harry’s willpower not to throw up when he heard Ron’s initial interview and that was just the tip of the iceberg? “I don’t believe he’s even revealed everything at this point yet, but he’s willing to share for the record what is needed so he can put the dark wizards away for good. He has plenty to do just that without even going into detail about his time held captive.”

“When is the case?” Harry forces out. He needs to start preparing himself now. 

“It’s in two weeks time,” Robards answers. “That’s why I wanted to check in with you. Do you plan on taking that time?” 

“Yes,” Harry answers instantly. There was no way he was leaving Ron alone. “My leave is indefinite right now.” Robards nods. 

“I look forward to having both you and Auror Weasley back on the force when you're both fit to come back. Auror Weasley is still in my office. I advise that you go fetch him,” Robards explains, only sparing Harry one last glance before he wishes him well. 

Harry takes a moment to pull himself together before he exits his office. He tugs the door closed behind him, wondering momentarily when he’ll be here next, more specifically when he’ll be here with Ron next. 

Ron is waiting inside the office when he gets there, looking tired and worn and like an absolute mess. Harry frowns, but doesn’t reach out, sees the way Ron flinches when he even walks into the room. 

“Are you ready to head home?” Harry asks gently. Ron’s blue eyes look lost as he meets Harry’s green, nodding numbly before he allows Harry to lead him out of the office. 

The office is quiet as Ron walks past them. Ron’s normally bright and warm demeanor is basically doom and gloom at this point, so unlike his normal bright personality. It’s clear the office can see the difference and Harry is thankful no one comments, no one even attempts to pull Ron’s attention so it’s thankfully a quick exit. 

“I can’t-“ Ron breathes and Harry is surprised when he leans against Harry, allowing his arm to slip around his waist. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Harry allows Ron to rest his full weight on Harry, walking him slowly back toward the apparition point so he doesn’t overwhelm him. “It’s going to be okay, Ron,” he whispers. Ron was one of the strongest people he knew. He’ll get through this. 

But then they’re home and Ron is curled up in bed, hugging his injured arm to his chest and holding in his tears and Harry is suddenly worried Ron won’t come back from this. 

It’s a fleeting thought but it leaves a glimmer of dread that starts to gnaw at his heart. 

———————————

Ron barely talks to Harry for two weeks. He goes to see his mind healer and spends the rest of his time hauled up in their bedroom. If he can’t sleep, he finds his way to the couch utilizing the wall and promptly lies awake all night.

He basically looks like a zombie when the case rolls around. Harry imagines he hasn’t had more than a few hours of sleep the last two weeks. It reminds Harry of those months after the war, when he would purposely avoid mirrors in his attempt to avoid looking at himself, looking at the mess he became after the war. It had taken a lot of support and time before he could even get out of bed nonetheless start auror training. He knows he needs to allow Ron the time, space and support just like Ron did for him after the war. 

When Harry enters their bedroom, he’s surprised to see Ron dressed in his best robes. They’re a deep blue. They normally bring out his blue eyes, but they seem to simply be accentuating the bruised smudges that have come with his sleepless nights. 

He doesn’t look ready. Harry can see the pain in his eyes, those stormy blues reflecting all the devastation he’s still feeling from his capture. It’s a look Harry’s gotten used to these last few weeks, looking into a pair of lost blue eyes, ones that spend more time in Ron’s head than they do in the present. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Ron mutters, tugging at his robes and adjusting them. He’s clearly uncomfortable, tugging at the collar of his shirt like it’s choking him. He has to shake himself out of his thoughts, before he places a hand on Harry’s shoulder, something he started doing after their office visit. It makes Harry’s chest ache as they appear at the Wizengamot. 

Ron doesn’t even give him a second glance as he steps inside and finds himself a sat. Harry knows Ron’s been talking to Robards about the case and notes Ron seems to know exactly what seat he’s supposed to sit in. It would seem Harry isn’t allowed in the seat next to him either, not when Susan nods sadly from next to Ron, indicating he can take a seat in the row behind. 

The case is relatively straight forward. They managed to find some witnesses, bringing each to the stand to talk about the illegal potions trade. They even nab one that claims to have overseen a murder, but Harry doesn’t believe it’s true when he watches the witness on the stand. There are more tells letting Harry know the person is lying rather than telling the truth. They end up calling a few of the dark wizards to the stand, ones that have turned for a shorter sentence before they bring Auror Davis up. 

And then it is Ron’s turn.

Harry feels like he can’t breath when he watches Ron walk up to the stand. He sits heavily in the chair, breath labored from just that short trek. He’s rubbing the injury across his side that Harry knows still bothers him a bit. 

He can see Ron take a deep breath when he finally takes a seat, frown tugging down his lips when they start right into the questions. It’s easy at first. They ask some questions about the case before he even went undercover and Ron covers them easily. He talks about his own strategies, the intel he was able to put together from the cryptic messages they received from Auror Davis. It’s easy for him to talk about his work as a strategist and Harry can see a glimpse of Ron before everything, that spark that used to light when he was doing what he was good at. 

That spark instantly disappears when they get into his undercover days. They clearly aren’t as hard as his time captured and tortured. He talks about the potions, making note of the ingredients, making sure to point out all of the illegal ones that are involved in the process. There are moments when he seems to drift off when he talks about hushed moment he wasn’t involved in, overhearing talks of murder and illegal curses that most people didn’t even know existed. 

Ron’s always been good at his job and it’s clear in his detailed descriptions, his theories that all seem to pan out in the end. Harry is immensely proud he got this much information before he was captured.

The problem is that eventually they start in on his time captured. Harry is thankful they don’t go into detail, don’t ask for specific information. Harry can see the pain written across Ron’s face, can see the visions flashing in front of his eyes as he’s forced to remember all the bad moments of his capture. The more Ron talks, the further into his head he gets, words jumbled and lost until they decide to take a break in order to give Ron some time to recover. 

Harry hasn’t seen him move that fast in a long time, nearly jumping out of his seat and exiting the room. Harry barely catches sight of the flash of red hair before it disappears into the bathroom. He follows it, pushing the door open to find the room empty until he sees a pair of brown shoes visible from under the stall door. 

“Ron, it’s okay,” Harry promises, turning to lock the door behind him. He knows Ron would have if he was able to do magic, but the cast still preventes him from holding his wand and his mental state didn’t bode well with wandless magic, which already took a lot out of a wizard in general. 

The door opens tentatively to reveal Ron’s tear stained cheeks, blue eyes swimming as they land on Harry. He nearly collapses, breath heavy. Harry steps forward so he can catch him, listening to Ron wheezing in his arms, unable to catch his breath as he leans against Harry. 

“I fucking hate this,” Ron chokes out, gagging as he doubles over. He’s holding his stomach awkwardly and Harry turns him toward the toilet just before he throws up the toast he had for breakfast. He gags over the toilet before he collapses on the ground, coughing as his shaking hand reaches for the toilet paper. 

Harry hurries to reach it for him, using it to wipe the vomit on his chin. He grabs another piece to offer Ron a tissue, frowning when Ron’s shaking fingers reach out for the offered paper to blow his nose. 

“It’s over after this. They’ll be put away for good because of the work you put into this case. You’re going to put them away for life,” Harry promises, wiping at Ron’s tears. 

They stare at each other for a few moments before Ron nods tentatively, leaning forward to pull Harry into a hug. It’s the first real contact in weeks and Ron presses his face into Harry’s neck, taking a deep breath in before he pulls away.

“Are you ready to go back out there?”

“No,” Ron answers honestly, taking Harry’s outstretched hand. “But I have to do it.” 

He holds Harry’s hand until he can’t anymore. 

———————————

“I should have gotten out sooner.”

Harry starts from his spot on the couch, book falling to the floor. Ron flinches when it slams against the hardwood, frown tugging down his lips as he shuffles the last few steps to the couch. He tucks his arm against his chest, grabbing one of the pillows to cushion it. 

“What do you mean by that?” Harry asks. Ron’s spent most of the last two day since the trial in his room, quiet and contemplating. Harry had tried to reach him a few times but never pushed if Ron wanted to be left alone, which was basically all the time. 

“I should have bloody left when I found out they thought there was a mole,” Ron explains. He isn’t looking at Harry, picking at the pillow with his good hand. He looks upset, like he’s disappointed in himself for making the wrong move. “No, they  _ knew _ there was a mole.”

“They knew?” 

Ron nods at the question, blue eyes swirling with emotions when he finally meets Harry’s gaze. “They knew but I just needed one more thing to get them. I needed to catch their shipment of illegal ingredients. I was going to notify you, but I never got the chance.

“I left to send a patronus, but they were waiting for me. They knew it was me. I don’t know how long they knew. I don’t even know if the shipment was real or they were playing me. Fuck. I had so bloody much on them and that would have done it. I would have been out.

“I didn’t follow protocol though. I should have left the second I caught wind about a mole. I should have left before. I should have come home to you. We still would have had plenty to put them away. I was so fucking stupid.”

Harry listens carefully as Ron finally opens up to him, reveals the things that have been eating him up. “Ron,” Harry tries but Ron shakes his head, running his fingers through his still too short hair. 

“I should have fucking left. It was so fucking stupid,” Ron cries and Harry jumps when the sparks fly from the lamp next to Ron. Ron’s magic literally explodes out of him as the coffee table clatters across the room, all of his anger and frustration at himself leaving him in waves of magic that Harry can literally feel. “I know better. I know to follow protocol. I fucking did this to myself.”

Harry’s breath catches before he’s tumbling over the couch, taking Ron’s hand in both of his. He grabs Ron’s chin, trying to be as gentle as possible as he turns Ron’s face to look at him again. 

“This is not your fault. You did not do this to yourself,” Harry says, voice stern and words shaking. Ron’s been blaming himself this whole time. “Those bloody arseholes. They did this to you. They deserve to spend life rooting in a cell for what they did to you. This case was only successful because of you because of the information you got. You didn’t know they were coming after you.” 

“I just-“ Ron’s eyes are wet when his blue eyes flicker up to meet Harry’s green and Harry’s thumb brushes across his cheek gently, gliding in and out of the new crevices from his injury. “I don’t know what to do.”

Harry pulls Ron in, hand tangled in his hair. He has to work at keeping himself calm in his attempt to calm Ron down, feeling the others ragged breath against his neck. “We’re going to get through this. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here for whatever you need, whenever you need.” 

“My sessions,” Ron mutters against his neck, pulling away so he can look at Harry. “I want you to come. I want you to know.”

Harry’s heart pounds in his chest. This was the moment he’s been waiting for. He’s been waiting for Ron to open up, to let him in. He didn’t think Ron would allow him in his sessions with his mind healer, but he’d do anything to help Ron through this. 

“Of course, I’ll do whatever you need,” Harry assures. He’ll help Ron no matter what, be there for him. Ron smiles at him, lips pulling up in the first genuine indication of happiness since before he left for his mission. 

The moment is broken when an owl comes swooping into the living room. It’s Robards owl that lands gracefully on the back of the couch. 

Ron looks at the bird curiously for a moment, untying the letter on the bird’s leg. He unrolls the small letter, blue eyes still filled with tears as they scan the page in front of him. 

“What is it?” Harry asks when Ron looks up at him, the first glimmer of hope sparking in those blue eyes. 

“It’s done. They’re away for life. They’re all away for life,” Ron confirms, surging forward to pull Harry into a hug. He’s crying into Harry’s hair, relief clear as he holds Harry against him, shoulders relaxed for the first time in months. 

“You did it, Ron,” Harry says, holding Ron close. They still have a long way to go. This doesn’t fix everything. This doesn’t mean Ron won’t spend tomorrow in bed again, avoiding Harry’s touch. It was a step in the right direction though and Harry would be there to take every step next to Ron no matter how slow he needed to take them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be the end of the story, but it is not the end of this universe. I will be adding more fics to the series so feel free to follow the series if you're interested in more. I have a prequal planned and a Teddy centered fic coming up next. 
> 
> Comments make my heart happy <3 And if you want to see anything in particular in this universe, please let me know! 
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://playitaagain.tumblr.com/)!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make my heart happy <3
> 
> Would anyone be interested in more? I have some ideas for another chapter or two. 
> 
> Update 1/22/21: This has turned into a multi-chapter fic! It will include one or two more chapters as well as multiple oneshots that will take place in the same universe making it part of a series. 
> 
> Find me on my [tumblr](https://playitaagain.tumblr.com/)


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